Moonspear hazine haze

Tracing a familiar path heading towards the thick of their forests, she came down the mountain earlier in her day than necessarily intended. Hunts successful, cached, and hunger abated, she then had found no love in the view of the valleys spread in all directions; clouds had moved in early in the morning and thickened across the afternoon. Gray, dreariness stretched to every horizon, and while she welcomed any oncoming rain, watching a slow-build roil from start to finish was nothing particularly special to her. She would find something else to do in the meantime, and keep an eye on the skies from there--wherever that may be.

Practiced paws made short work of the route and she started to find the footpaths of others soon enough, but not yet the wolves themselves. The elusive matron continued her descent as she went instinctively gliding into silence herself--never intending to make it all too easy should she not be alone for very much longer.