Blackfeather Woods most times, a ghost is a wish

although normally confident, this time the fae has a tenser body. was she really sure about this? was she really sure about joining a pack again? she figured she liked benig alone, but she felt she would fit in here. the darkness, the way the birds gather in a murder and sing their songs that resonate with the night sky. her strking golden eyes contrasting in the thorough darkness, glowing, giving her the intimidating appearance of something unholy lurking. hiding a smirk behind her silky coat, a flash of her ivory fangs escspes the wolfess' muzzle.
she was no angel, after all.
slowly, she started crossing over the border of the territory. her confidence regained, she dreamt of the potential endeavors she could face as part of a pack. her pawsteps weren't slow, but they were gentle. walking with the stride of a perdator, silently stalking its prey from a distance, ready to pounce at any time. her form pitch black, with no light able to catch the sparkle of her cloak, she moved & swayed as a shadow. the hellion came to a stop, observing her surroundings, coming to the conclusion that she was deep enough into the territory. the lady sat down, resting her plush tail on the ground behind her. tipping her head back and facing her muzzle skyward, she let out a long, lonely howl to announce her presence in the territory, hoping she could beckon someone to her.