Redhawk Caldera call me a spaceman

She camped beside Big Salmon Lake, taking frequent baths by day and huddling in the nearby woods each night. Nobody came looking for her. Perhaps they’d believed her version of events. They were likely too busy burying Raveon to send anyone after Frolic.

The yearling sat beside the calm waters this morning, staring down at her black paws. They stung from the latest scrubbing. They were bloodless, though Frolic could still smell its stink. She balled them into fists before letting her forepaws drift to the ground. That stench would follow her for the rest of her life, she thought.

But it was time to move on with it, if she could. Frolic stood, feet feeling heavy as she plodded south through Bramblepoint, past the place where she had slept these past few weeks. Long before the forest gave way, she could see glimpses of the caldera over and through the treetops. Her heart jumped into her throat.

Frolic was not the same spirited adventurer she had been the last time she’d set foot on Brecheliant grounds. She was more like a shadow of that person now. That’s what felt like lurked inside her: a shade, like a darker version of herself. It must’ve been there her whole life, dormant until just the right—or wrong—moment.

All the same, she missed her family dearly. After taking a few moments to collect herself at the foot of the old stack, the prodigal daughter pointed her dark muzzle skyward and called out to them.