Northstar Vale Pas de Pitié

a great din of distant howls drew ava in from the islands. 

by the gathering calls of crows she knew she was getting closer. there were scents laid here that seemed fresh — including an acrid patch of urine still warm. 

creeping low now, ava eyed her prospective trail, wondering if she should not go around. 

no. it would cost too much time. she moved off at a slinky trot, following the call of crows as they flew inland.