Shadow Mountain nor the warrior for her glory

praimfaya takes a different route home than when she departed on her mission to find thade. it is a longer route, chosen, perhaps because, she is returning empty pawed and trying to figure out how she is to break the bad news to mahler — the only news she has. she has found no trace of his missing son and the wolves she's came across offered her no leads. chasing after him was a dead end. a desperate and far flung hope. the shadow mountain is just as lush as she remembers it being from the time in her childhood where her mother took her all up and down this range; teaching her. training her. she spent some time at the stream, cooling off in it's crisp waters only after sating her thirst.

hours later, her fur is mostly dry except for a few patches of fur that remain damp, where the sunlight does not touch it. it is the moment she is about to cut down into sleepy fox hollow that she scents them. at first she thinks she is wrong. she has to be wrong. surely the crazy bitch and her boytoy hadn't relocated on her sunspire? not after how utterly and ridiculously territorial the woman'd been about the ravensblood.

but praimfaya knows her nose isn't wrong. she smells them from the canyon below and her hackles bristle with unbidden hostility. from the peak, the commander of death looms over the canyon yawning below, upper lip curled back. when she suggested that hua and ira do something about them ...she hadn't meant drive them into her homelands. she debates, on whether she should march down there and end the woman's miserable life herself or if she should make haste back to sagtannet to deliver the blow of two separate issues and the fact that she absolutely wanted those wolves out of the sunspire.