Blackfeather Woods I don't remember this dumpster being my subsidiary

it could hardly come as a surprise to anyone to find the ghost lingering about her woods, always haunting. it was still so achingly wrong to see them abandoned in such a manner even if she could not find it in her heart to hold any ill will towards maegi over it, her decision had made sense even if it went against her damned heart to admit it. the only meager silver lining would be that as it was now uninhabited she could actually set paw in the woods once more. it was a small victory and not something she'd ever choose over the pack's existence yet nevertheless she would exploit this upside as much as she could. 

she had returned to courtfall previously and spent much of her time amongst those of the vale like she should. it's not as if she'd moved into the woods or anything, she just would grant herself the occasional visit. plus, bertók needed it. the raven had followed her home and although she'd been so guiltily relieved he'd chosen to pick her over the woods; it was clear that he was struggling. this place ultimately belonged to the winged shadows, the wolves had only ever been their guests and it was understandable that the separation from his kingdom was difficult on her companion. so she accompanied him home every...now and then. it was better this way, let him adjust to the sharp mountains slowly. 

inhaling deeply, she slips with a fluid confidence that came truly forward when roaming the familiar trails of home. bertók drifts alongside, lighter too and even slipping forth the occasional caw - they'd become much rarer since their departure. yet...noise, some awful cry that threatened memories on the edge of her vision along with the unmistakable aroma of blood. an instinctive groan lifts from the depths of a shrunken stomach whilst fair hairs bristle. how had she not noticed, too lost in a reverie to notice the unfamiliar wolf lingering tauntingly on the breeze. 

it was like a slap to the face, she'd known wolves would soon strut through the forests like they had any rights to which they actually did but whatever... yet it still came as a pained shock. she moves mindlessly in the direction, shifting through the shadows with the silent grace of the phantoms she so resembled. eventually she sees him, detaching smoothly from the dark; shifting air as they tugged desperately at the edges of her fur until she stood pale in the face of a dark, gangly man. the ravaged form he tore from had evidently been the source of the scream and she regards him with a glacial stare. orbs jet black in the shelter of ancient trees looking down on them. the want to chase him from the forests is so strong she has to nip her own tongue to deny her mind its want to allow hackles to rise and teeth to be bared. no, she does not seek enemies and so watches with a silent indifference until he may speak. not a glance is spared towards his meal so hopefully he does not presume her intentions are to rob him. that was the last of her worries now.