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When no one was looking, Bat skulked away from the hollow tree where Wildfire was constantly fussing over Thuringwethil, not bothering to say anything to anyone. She wasn't being avoidant or sneaky on purpose; she simply couldn't bear being there any longer. There was something so awful about watching the commander struggle, and of witnessing Wildfire's distress over her ailing mate. It made the Goufa feel a little sick to her stomach.

She began heading toward Hougeda, where there was nothing to harsh her vibe and she could pretend like everything was fine. But then a pop-up rainstorm waylaid her. Bat couldn't muster up her usual enthusiasm—not after this trying week—but she plopped beneath a towering sequoia, a smile playing about her lips as she watched the rain fall. It went as quickly as it came, so she was on her way again soon enough.

Instead of going toward the caves, though, Bat drifted southwest, toward Drageda's fringe. She'd never been so close to the borders, mostly because she never bothered to wander much. She certainly wasn't very interested in what lay beyond the territory. She slowed as the trees began to thin around her, mercury eyes roving dully over the unfamiliar terrain.