Haunted Wood There might be something outside your window

agitation ripples along her spine as she stalks the borders, noting which scents have faded there. tzila, the bitch, had left without warning. vanity was still a threat, and the pack unraveled at the seams. change was needed, though of what sort, exactly, eluded her yet. 

a call interrupts her thoughts, and the woman turns tightly to weave back the way she'd come. she is not far off, and when finally the familiar (if changed) form of Valour comes into sight, she pauses. tail curls over her rear, but it is only the result of habit. "where were you?" she is guarded; vows had been made, and then he had abruptly vanished. of all those who had gone, his scent was the only one she'd made an effort at tracking.