Dragoncrest Cliffs the grinch wishes he had a heart as small as mine

As much as she’d like to relax and say things have calmed down, she knows they haven’t. As long as Rusalka remains in the sound unattended, they have a threat to deal with. She spends a lot of her time on the borders with any number of wolves and other times with the other leaders, trying to figure out what to do.

After a while, she finds herself alone and roaming the redwoods. She idly follows a scent of a wolf that has really stepped up in the wake of Portia’s death. She’s seen the work she’s done against the warriors and the damage inflicted upon them. None of them are sick from infection and are still functional to keep use of their claim.

When she does find her sleeping form in the mouth of a log, she looks a little like Wildfire (but bigger). She stands there a few seconds, watching her sleep. Her ears twitch upon her head as she listens to her surroundings but she doesn’t understand the weird feeling in her chest, unfurling its reach. Antumbra takes a few steps, then, and stops just outside the opening, taking a turn or two, and settling down at the opening like a protective pet and taking the time to fall asleep too.