Wapun Meadow i. I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrap my head

@Barracuda Your PMing is disabled but I tried to post this somewhere near his most recent threads and somewhere near where she might have entered Teekon

Once, when she was still held by the strange men to northwest - a rough band who spoke a guttural tongue she never quite picked up - they had locked the girl in a cave. She could not say how long she was trapped there in the dark; it could have been hours, days, years, eons. Voices had brushed her eardrums, soft as a kiss, in the dark - whispering in a dark lure she instinctively knew she should not be hearing. They had sought to break her in that cave, leaving her lissome frame backed into a corner with only the creatures that lurked in the shadows for company. Childishly, she had stiffened there - defiant - with her eyes squeezed shut with the hope that if she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her. She had felt presences, entities, on the borders of her space and she had felt fear. 

"Fear is not shameful. Many men think so but this is not true. It is what you do with your fear that is most important. Cowardice is shameful but to face your fears face on? That is what Night Stalkers must do on a daily basis." Kizok's words had come to her then and she had locked the fear into a hard knot - storing it in the bottom of her belly. They had wanted her to crack but they had forgotten that Night Stalkers never quit. 

The cave still found her at times, in her sleep she would feel only suffocating claustrophobia - she would hear again that strange language that had danced on the fringes of her grasp. She would wake more weary than before, feeling oddly numb to her surroundings. Birds were chirping as she woke, the sound of the stream trickled on merrily but to The Reaper it fell on muted ears. She paused at a turn in the stream, lapping up some of the cool water before treading through the shallows. 

It was early yet, the tangle of trees at the southern edge of the meadow silhouetted black against the bruise-purple sky. A faint orange tinge could be seen at the very edge of the horizon, a sign that the sun's light would soon be cast on the clearing. The moon's light was nowhere to be seen though the last odd star or two flickered from above. The grass was damp with dew underfoot; having left behind the damp pile of leaves she nested in, she grew chilled in the early morning air despite her thick coat.

She had entered these lands by coincidence and thought of little other than survival; in truth the girl was still operating as a Nomad - it was her default.

She prowled to the southern edge of the meadow, taking up a spot beneath the coverage of the tree. There were prints in the dirt - antelope perhaps - and she had ideas of waiting to see if a herd passed through. It was the season for young and if they sought to graze the verdant meadow, the girl might have an easy breakfast. She licked her pale chops at the thought, settling in alertly and scoping the area with her molten gaze.