Herbalists' Cache homecoming

it's been a long journey from the wilderness she once called home. a march from hrafnvaengr, a trail of tears. it hadn't been the same, after @Faust had left. everything had changed; the forest once so lively with their laughter and antics had fallen with gloom. 

the camps where they'd spent sleepless nights planning their next escapades a ghost of themselves. empty and hollow. @Blackfell had left, too. their losses had sat heavily in her chest, a woman so strong and fierce only to be hindered by grief. to lose not one best friend, but two? 

it made her angry. a seething, festering wound that did not heal with time.

why hadn't they taken her with? why did they leave her there, alone, to shoulder the weight of their absence?

but she was to be strong, as all wildlings were expected to be. and so she shoved it aside, buried it deep, and cursed their names in her prayers. 

hrafn's leadership had been overthrown. killed in the night, their bodies left to rot elsewhere. bodies that would not be recovered for proper burials. the home she promised and vowed and fought to protect? 

it was no more. and so she left, too. 

she'd never been alone, not truly. she'd never felt such an emptiness in her heart that nothing could fill or soothe. she walked aimlessly for miles, without purpose and without friends, family. she was a warrior; but she felt so weak. 

snow crunches beneath her paws. her body blending with the blanket, save for the dark flecks along her back. icy, cold eyes glaring down the valley that carried a whisper of a scent she never thought she'd smell again. 

blackfell. she hadn't forgotten him; how could she? one of two boys she grew up with, one of two boys she'd fought and endured with. 

one of the fucking boys that left her alone. 

she marched after that trail with a torrent of unwelcome emotion raging inside her. relief, excitement, hurt, anger—she wasn't sure if she'd kill him, or if she'd embrace him. but it didn't matter, so long as she found him.