Haunted Wood Subiendo

discontent. it is a fickle thing, that comes and goes and reaches cold fingers of doubt into her pelt. for now, she does her best to ignore it, but it is what wakes her early that morning. the sky is draped in that atramentous hue that precedes dawn, and her path is a largely aimless one that takes her nearer the pit.

activity near the edge has her auds cant forward, gate stiffening as she moves directly towards the commotion. a woman stands at the edge of the pit, pale and dirt-covered. dim recognition takes hold, and the girl stalks forward, confidence oozing out of her curled lips, raised tail, and gimlet stare. it is intentional, and exaggerated. she pauses a stone's throw away, waiting for the woman's reaction - will she run, fight, or slide back down the way she'd come?