Duck Lake the grass is growing on top of my feet

rarely did she go this far from kvarsheim.

there was never a need to. yet the world there grew more silent than she cared for. perhaps that was her mother's spirit shining within her. perhaps it was that which acted like a north star and beckoned her away from safety into the unknown.

only for a little while, only for a glimmer at the world beyond.

the lake was lackluster in the endless similar hues of winter. yet she was not blind to all the signs of life that surrounded this place. some crossing, some lingering.

she set out to find the freshest scent. unconcerned with who or what it might be.