Swiftcurrent Creek i won't tell you how i survived the wreckage.

Eventually, and at a pace slightly slower than how she typically travelled, Moss made her way back to Swiftcurrent Creek from Kvarsheim. She left quietly, still wary of contributing to any sort of trial they might hold for the man who harboured the witch, in spite of her death sentence. She’d shake those responsibilities from her shoulders as she would shake raindrops from her pelt, and move on.

After all, she was cursed; whatever remained of her life would be spent quietly, just waiting for the next hammer to fall. 

As she approached the borders, she caught the scent of a stranger and sighed softly. She’d return to her life as it had been before, a quiet, stern guardian who tried to ignore both heartache and the aching of a heart attack. She felt spent, but at least having a job gave her some purpose. 

A howl sounded, and Moss didn’t summon the energy to respond, and merely approached nonetheless, even though she was only just returning to the Creek herself. 

The woman reminded her of another, and this similarity- the golden, wheat-hue of her fur caused Moss to frown. She could only hope there was no relation between the newcomer, and the golden woman who had just left them. 

”You are?” She asked, albeit somewhat tiredly.