Herbalists' Cache With scarves of red tied 'round their throats

She had needed a break from it all; little siestas didn't appear to cut it anymore, and while her outbound trips from the territory sprouted a sense of guilt within her, at the moment Ibis' selfish need for "private time" won out over all other sensation. Telling herself she wouldn't be away long, she headed out from the Emberwood and roamed without a destination in mind.

It felt good to have the wind in her fur again. The snow blanketed everything but it wasn't falling in great waves right now, having warmed up prior to her departure, and the softest crunch of ice beneath her dainty steps was all that sounded around her as she crept along — and then as she ran, sprightly, doe-like with each leap.

Things had changed so much — and so fast. Autumn and its rage had swept through the valley and now, in the stillness of winter, Ibis thought she could still smell the smouldering ash; her mind wandered to thoughts of her family and she forced herself to stop pining for them, because she had matured in her knowledge of the world and she knew wishes couldn't be so easily granted. She had other things to think about — and to escape.

As Ibis came upon yet another forest she took a deep breath of the crisp air, expecting the pine scent that flooded her sinuses, less so that wolf scent lingering just beneath. It wasn't familiar. She had half a mind to turn around and avoid the potential meeting but in her heart she knew that wasn't normal for her; she was a social creature, and the curiosity of the forest drew her deeper.