Arrow Lake this one's for us

What should have been a three day's journey turned into four, eventually becoming five. Stephanie was growing weaker by the day, and what sane part of her remained knew that joining a pack was the smartest thing for her to do. Her once muscular physique had become a sad sack of skin and matted fur, bones poking through on either side. Her eyes had begun to form a glaze, the right thicker than the left; it was what Daddy Bruce referred to as le regard de la mort -- the gaze of death. Still, even with her health on an obvious decline, Stephanie held fast to her ability and the thought that she could contribute just as much as anyone else.

For a while, she was unsure. Stephanie had passed by countless borders, choosing to continue on, even with knowing what that meant. Maybe it was instinct that had been the final straw, or maybe it was her recent run-ins. Unlike most, she'd never been able to outrun her ghosts. The night before, she'd posted a few yards away from the border, hoping to regain some energy before making her case to whomever. Even as she stood, having just made the call, Stephanie remained unsure.