Firefly Glen whiskey on you

Keen knew as she traipsed through the glen that she was not far from where she'd once found Rusalka. Where she had tried to make a new start, and forge an identity for herself, only for it to all fall flat. Which, really, had been a common theme of her youth overall. She'd tried on so many different identities in a desperate attempt to break away from — well, herself. Because being herself just reminded her of all the things she had lost. She missed her family; she missed Easthollow.
But at some point she'd decided to stop running from it. She'd never stopped wandering, but more often than not her travels took her to places far from where she had started. Not so, this time. Keen was closer than she'd been in a long time to her old home. It was still fairly far, though, so she felt safe enough. They wouldn't find her here.
She saw a woman, and stopped. Sandy fur, a bit thick around the middle; her eyes were closed. Keen wasn't sure if she should approach or not, so she simply stood there and watched her for the moment, and wondered if she was okay. There were only so many reasons to stop in the middle of nowhere and close your eyes.