Wild Berry Meadow hold your ground

As hunger built inside of her she headed in to the north, to where the land opened up and the trees fell away. It would be wise to stick to the forests — to think like her prey — but Parvati was not a hunter of large creatures; she could subsist on the vermin of the earth as she was raised to, leaving the men for the more strenuous tasks. It was with a heavy heart that she came upon the meadow with its amble bushes — they were not yet ready to produce fruit, which meant she could not satisfy herself with easy pickings. The buds were beautiful in their own way, and she paused among the rows upon rows of low-cropped hedges to sniff at them, thinking fondly of the women she left behind. The many who would never see the freedom she coveted so badly.

Her hunger grew as she moseyed through the meadow; yet it wasn't just the basic need for food that propelled her, but something more basic, more carnal. The itch in her skin had become something althogether different in the days since her fey sleep; Parvati roamed in fits until she grew too impatient for her hunt and began to crave — something she couldn't put a name to. She had never before been with a man (and in fact, was loathed to let any man near her, thus her exodus), but the lust that sprang to mind made her think of the warriors of home too. 

Their fit bodies, leering eyes — the way they swaggered about the place. The boom of their voices as they returned from a hunt, or the smell of their thick musk when they fought in jest; Parvati found her mind filling slowly with fantasies of the barbarism she had escaped. With an exasperated sigh and a look to the great blue sky overhead, she calls out to nobody in particular, Lord, would you put out this fire!

With a huff she continues on — eastward, for no particular reason besides it being the direction she is facing.