Greatwater Lake remember how i died when you started walking?

The Emberwood stirred under a light breeze, its vivid autumn hues trembling as if the forest itself breathed with quiet life. Sunlight filtered through the lattice of aspen branches, casting golden pools on the forest floor, where fallen leaves crunched softly underfoot. The occasional chatter of squirrels and the flutter of wings overhead filled the air, a symphony of animals that painted this place as a hunter’s dream.

Gjalla moved like a shadow, her sharp gaze sweeping across the terrain as she tread carefully over the uneven ground. There was no urgency in her movements—she was patient, methodical, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Her breath steamed faintly in the crisp air, a sharp contrast to the quiet warmth of the forest. Her eyes, cold and calculating, occasionally lingered on the fiery colors above, the rarest flicker of interest brushing her guarded expression. But it was fleeting. With a flick of her tail, she refocused, ears twitching to the rustle of a hare in the underbrush ahead.

There it was—a target, unaware of her approach. Gjalla dropped into a low crouch, muscles coiled with precision as she crept closer, the dry leaves muffling her steps just enough.

for @Baela !

It was time to move, to keep searching. Baela knew that, and yet the lake had called to her. Large and crystalline, in the right light it resembled the large bays of her home. She missed it. The salty spray that crimped her pelt and the cry of seabirds. It wasn't fair, but when had life ever been fair? 

Baela moved away from the lake then, determined to rid herself of thoughts of the past. Autumn was upon her, the crisp air filling her lungs. With the change of seasons, so too could she change. Her pace was brisk as she entered the wooded area closest to the lake. The trees, like fire against the pale blue sky, shielded her from the more bitter gusts of wind. 

Teeming with game, and who knows what else, Baela forged a path through the forest. Her steps were loud, careless, as she weaved between the white barked trees. The crunch of leaves and twigs was enough to send a nearby hare into a fit, the creature scattering from its hiding place beneath some shrubbery. Looking towards the hare's nest, Baela caught the eyes of another wolf. 

Instinctively, Baela's hackles and tail puffed in a show of aggression. The shadows and wind masked the other wolf's presence, a reminder to the woman that she had grown complacent during her journey. Those eyes though, like two periwinkle gems peering out from the shadowed forest, called to her. Familiarity had her stepping forward despite her mind screaming to leave. 

Who goes there?