Redhawk Caldera Ever Changing Tides of Time

Amalia stared mournfully as the last of her ties to the Caldera left, her again. This was the second pack that just sort of dispersed like wisps of fluff in the spring and fall. Her chest ached and her head ached and she wanted to scream and beg. And yet. There was a reason. And it wasn't as if they had told her no she could not come. But.

She looked towards the spear. She could not leave Alaric, this was home. She didn't know what to do. Or where to go. She didn't even know of any packs anymore. She supposed she could dust off her running shoes so to speak and travel throughout the area. Searching. But winter was coming and she was alone. Again.

Amalia had always wondered if perhaps she was a temporary creature. One meant to only be with someone or something for so long and then when she no longer filled a purpose, if they just left.

She gave a soft little sniffle and then began to trot away from the Caldera and the memories she had made. She'd land somewhere. She always did.