Hoshor Plains caught me in it's whirlwind, left me black and blue

she's slipped outside the border while the sky is still tinged by night. it's not often she's awake this time, the earliest touch of dawn coupled with the melodies of newly awakened songbirds somewhat otherworldly. it's the frustration that wakens her - frustration the boils into anger when she looks at Dragomir's broken form, at the empty space where her father should be. 

and so she finds herself here, opposite a tight bundle of dead bracken roughly half her size. she snaps at it like a viper, swiping at it with her paws to get it moving and striking at the frail branches. it feels good, and ultimately, she seizes the bundle in her jaws and whips her head back and forth until the thing falls apart, branches sting her neck and muzzle. pausing, and letting the thing drop from her grip, she sets upon the smaller pieces with renewed vigor, intent on reducing them to nothing.