Silverlight Terrace Inland

She had finally moved inland, and she already missed the coast. Her pelt still smelled of salt, and it was still curled from the sea. Happy to at least carry it with her, Nyamh skirted along an area that smelled distinctly of pack wolves, and found herself in rolling green hills. It was dark, but the moon shone bright and silver down upon her and the land; the green grass gave way to silver, and her pelt faded, looking paler in the moonlight. Up and down the hills she travelled, heading southeast. She would follow the mountain for now, and see where that took her.