The Tangle pure beast and skin

After the brief meeting upon her return, Thuringwethil still keeps her distance. Most of the time she stays in the northern territory, near the garden where Kendra is buried. With Portia on the mend, Dalia in recluse, there isn’t much activity up there. But this morning she is too restless, feeling the intensity burn. There is no real desire to give in to what her body wants, finding strength in the former commanders guiding her, and feels no shred of weakness as she leaves the border and makes way for the tangle.

It is not a territory she is terrible familiar with but it is wholly unpleasant to walk through. The dangerous juts and hard slopes aren’t easy to traverse, even for a cliff dweller, and the forest is thick with vegetation, making it equally frustrating to get through. It is enough to keep others from her should they advance, putting a decent sized barrier between them, and her nose is flared the whole time, listening for unsuspecting strangers at her most disadvantaged.

The days have begun to warm, and a good portion of the snow has melted. The constant drip of wet falls overhead as the morning sun burns against the tree tops and melts what has been left over.