Blackfeather Woods I am tired, I am weary

she'd slipped away for a short time, intent on a day trip to the wood visible from the edges of the mesa. virtute had been distant, anyways. the descent took the spindly-limbed girl much of the morning, and when finally she slipped into the forest's edge, the sun hung heavy directly overhead. still, beneath the canopy, the air was cool and still, the scent of damp and earth prevalent. 

silently, the girl wandered. this place was in stark contrast to the mesa, even more so than the haunted wood. in the canopy, the whispered sound of crow's wings accompanied her journey. something moves, parallel to her path; it is with an unblinking gaze that she stares after the sound, tail held stiff and utterly motionless.

<3 This looked lonely. Virtute is lonely.

She did not take long to sense him. 

Once she stiffened, the panther chose to reveal himself, striding from the shadows with his pale gazed fixed upon her, and something of disappointment on his features which drew his whiskers down a bit, so the tips reached below his chin. Without an ounce of hesitation, he moved to block her path- in essence, putting a barrier with claws and teeth between her and the rest of the forest that she seemed interested in exploring. But these were the lowlands- and that was where wolves dwelled. She was no longer one of them, and he did not appreciate finding her so far from home. 

"Far enough," He said, his voice a deep warning. "Back to the Mesa," He said, with a deft gesture of his muzzle, and began striding directly toward her in an intentionally shepherding move to get her to turn, and walk back the way she'd come.