Sequoia Coast and between offering and banquet, we devoured the gods

Forward-dated a few days.

From the rise, Thuringwethil stands at a loss. She is so close to Sleeping Dragon, in a way, and she feels the urge to go there. A snort passes through her nose and a puff of smoke forms in front of her face. She turns, skirting along the edges of Larksong to find there are no scents strong enough to have been laid for claim and a smile forms to her features. The wolves that have caused her so much strife in the early days of the teekon are long gone (without further exploration of the taiga) and their new (must more distant) neighbors have settled in just fine.

She swings back the way she came, through the rise and into the tangle, lingering in the southern reaches of the forest attached to it. Knowing she needs to get back Drageda doesn’t push her any faster, wishing for a little while longer of being alone, but another night will cause alarm and so she reluctantly begins to work her way out.

These lands are not as familiar to her, difficult to get around in most places. Frustration has begun to build up, struggling between getting safely through the foliage and the burning sensation that has her body on fire. It is still more of a nuisance than anything but she can only relieve one thing as she pushes through, breaking from the tree line and into the opening where a river leads down to the ravine. Her head turns and she takes in her new surroundings, confident she knows exactly where she is, and begins to move toward the riverbank.