Blackfeather Woods it isn’t the storm that makes the ocean dangerous

She knew what she had been feeling wasn't just made up. War had been brewing far before she had even noticed, yet she was, to her knowledge, one of the earlier observers of the strange magnetic air that had surrounded the woods. Their bad karma coming to ruin them just like how they had ruined others? Perhaps. Luckily, she was no stranger to how it felt to be in danger nor how it felt how to fight as unfairly as possible. There was no honor in losing or winning, yet she found winning to be the most valued out of the options since it meant you wouldn't die.

She blended in with the woods nearly perfectly, her silvered hackles being the horizon and her raven fur just as dark as the shadowy woods. Her uncle, however, was easier for her to spot. She had not spent much time with him, if anyone for that matter, but he was family she supposed so doing just that wouldn't hurt now their lives were in danger, right?

She kept with him, stalking him, her gut strangely twisting due to her nerves. She made just the slightest noise to make him aware of her presence, soft enough so only he could hear, giving him an uncomfortable look.