Blackfeather Woods bad decisions

Officially outside borders.

A tender moment between her leaders drove Grimm away from the Caldera in a fit of despair. She headed due north, swam through several rivers to rid herself of the pervading Peregrine-and-Fox smell, grumbling to herself about poorly matched mates and stupid bitch and who likes red anyway.

It wasn't until the smell of claimed land began to thicken that she ceased her fury-march and looked around. Up ahead, a dark and spindly forest reached its naked, black fingers into the air. Even though Grimm was a forest-dweller born and bred, it sent chills down her spine. The wolves that lived here probably weren't the chirpy, sunshine-and-low-fat-cupcakes sort.