Flycatcher Downs Down empty streets sniffing glue

The scent of Bearclaw was absent, a relief. Kirain moved through the landscape unburdened by their presence, though the mere thought of them made her stomach twist. They invaded space so aggressively, their scent alone enough to unsettle her. She understood their need to protect their home, but still...

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if to dispel the unease.

Her mind was a storm, waves of thought crashing against the fragile shore of her resolve. She would not waver, of that, she was certain. Yet uncertainty still gnawed at the edges of her determination. There was so much to consider, so much left undone.

Her wandering felt fruitless, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. What was she searching for? What was her next step? The question echoed relentlessly, pressing heavy against the brightness she usually carried.