King Elk Forest Who is the lamb and who is the knife.

The unmistakable air of family fills her nose now, not darkened by the sulfur smell of burning like before. It surprises her more than it should. A part of her thinks she is imagining things, because it has been over a month since she'd come through this place and at that time, the trails had gone cold.

She had thought to herself, 'It is time to move on,' and even entertained the thought enough to try; yet here she was now, stumbling upon them. Zephrine was a fleetfoot, she could turn tail now and be done with them all... To go on and live her life. The hesitation she displayed in that moment would cost her.

Around her stood the spires of trees. Rain scattered off the branches, pelting what withered leaves remained. It was cold but not so cold that she could see her breath. The air was fresh, except that scent. And the subtle shifting of a creature in the woods somewhere - drifting towards where she lingered.

The girl was appropriately alert. Her ears twisted at every change in the rain's tempo. She could hear her heart hammering more than she could feel it, made herself take a long breath to steady herself. Better to face this with some composure; if they would have her return to the fold at all, she knew it would be under-heel. The way it had always been.

No more time to run, now. Looks like she'd made up her mind.