Dragoncrest Cliffs the ghost of cincinnati

The black clouds gathering on the horizon looked rather mean, though they did not deter Haunt as she finally reached the edge of the world. She smiled as she hopped through her old hunting grounds, keeping her yellow eyes peeled for any sign of the Broken Antler herd. They were probably sheltering from the incoming storm, though, and Haunt didn't linger, moving forward toward the familiar fringes of Sapphique.

The wind swept in from the ocean with such sheer force, it threatened to unbalance her. But she'd spent many weeks adapting to her new status as a tripod, so Haunt shifted her weight and managed to reclaim equilibrium. She glanced upward, her mouth going a little dry as lightning struck out at sea. It reminded her of the spring night when she'd been hundreds of miles from here, still searching for Arbiter.

She found herself at the edge of a flat bed of stone that wound like a river, its precision strange and unsettling. No matter how far she ranged, it just kept going. Occasionally, an incomprehensibly large figure would pass along it at speed, spooking her back into the surrounding woods. By nightfall, the yearling knew she had no choice but to cross.

Haunt made a run for it only after the silent stillness went on for more than an hour. The instant her paws touched that strange asphalt surface, she was blinded by bright lights, deafened by a screech. She tried to flee but she was too slow; something clipped her on the left. Then she lost track of everything.

She woke up in the most inexplicable surroundings. In fact, the emergency veterinary facility was so beyond her scope of comprehension, Haunt would go on to repress all memory of her time there, including her recovery and rehabilitation. Deepest of all she would push any evocations of people.

The first thing she remembered clearly since that strange April night was waking up in some strange contraption at the edge of a field. The door of the cage lifted and she bolted, never once looking back at her rescuers as she fled all memory of that time, other than to reluctantly acknowledge she must have been abducted by aliens.

Haunt blinked back to present day, glancing down at where her left foreleg ended in a stump, the precision of the amputation always reminding her of the eerie road that had changed her life. Whenever she felt around her missing ear, it was the same. Her white fur prickled. She tried not to think about it too much. Other than the occasional twinge of phantom pain in her missing limb, Haunt had healed well and largely adjusted to life sans her appendages.

She drew in a breath of salty, stormy, electrified air. Would @Erzulie and @Rosalyn accept her disfigurement so easily?