Blackfoot Forest you have endured a worse thing

the snowfall is not silent — azreina hears it collect upon the emerald needles of the evergreen over her head, the forest itself is alive with the eerie calls of the foxes; distant and ever seeking — and for this azreina is ever grateful. she is not sure what she could do with beating silence. it's been too quiet since dacio's death; would remind her too much of the silence that followed his last breath, blodreina's last breath, the silence that engulfed what was left of her father's corpse. she is tired of silence. she is ...tired.

despite this, sleep does not come to her. not easily, at least. still, she closes her eyes in the hopes that some brief respite might come to her. just as she lulls into the first tender vestiges of slumber she stirs, ears alert atop her skull as she realizes that there are footsteps nearing. a bit more disoriented than she would like, azreina pushes herself to her paws, shaking dried and dead pine needles from her fur the best she can and peers out of the sparse evergreen; mercurial gaze settling upon an ebony figure drawing ever nearer.

azreina gives a low chuff to announce her presence.