Hideaway Strath If it wasn't for bad luck...

This is Whrist’s entrance to this area, Backdated to Oct 12ish before she traveling to the sunspire

Night was deep and dark fully set in, barely a sliver of moon shown in the sky speckled sky, no breeze blew to cover any sound, all in all the earth was almost eerily quiet. Every step she took, though careful to not make noise seemed to poison the tranquility of the mid of dark hour.

Earlier; Just past dusk she had passed through a small ravine and found that it had opened into a valley of sorts.
The femme’s mouth opened briefly exposing teeth that seemed to almost glow white against her blackened pelt, slowly her tongue slipped over her canines before sliding back into her closing maw. She was disgusted that she had not found a single bit of prey in the last two days. Even mice were far and few between, not that she’d lower herself to the pest infested rodents without just cause. Her hunger made her senses more keen, but did little for temperament. She stared as the surrounding vegetation as if it were the trees and shrubs fault she had not eaten.

Eventually she paused her travels and peered around, her ice blue eyes narrowing, her gaze followed the edge of the valley she now found herself in. There was no escape, no way to pass through. The walls of the valley looked impassable, she’d have to back track. For some reason the thought of having to back track irritated her to no end. She hated not having a scope of the area she was in. She hated feeling lost and having to back track would indeed make her feel even more lost then she was.