Swiftcurrent Creek earth kills

recycling a year old post that never got replies for trade purposes!

the afternoon is overcast, casting the day in a dull, drab grey. bellatrix uses the coming rain to her advantage, catching two fish — after failing spectacularly a few times; as to which her damp fur is a testament — that she gobbles down, keeping in forefront of her mind advise she had gotten a while ago to keep her strength up.

with her late breakfast taken care of, she buries the bones in the ground, softening with the warming of the sun and coming spring and makes her way to the borders, figuring running a patrol — or as much of one as she can run without over exerting herself — was a good place to start.

especially since she'd overslept.