Razorback Ridge you carry the heavens in your eyes

Wylla was starting to feel more like herself again, and that meant realizing she'd made some pretty poor choices. It seemed prudent to get out of dodge for a little while just in case Takiyok decided to go on a rampage. She departed Diaspora's territory just as the sky was beginning to blush with morning's light, ignoring the strange feelings of separation that accompanied her as she left Mahler's scent markings behind.

She went a lot farther than was wise, prowling absentmindedly over shelves of rock and snowy fields alike on her descent from the higher mountains. She maintained enough sense to keep an eye out for signs of prey while she walked. Perhaps she could soften the blow of her actions by supplying the pack with meat. It didn't take long for Wylla to convince herself that that was why she was out here wandering around, and not because of the possibility...

No, she dared not think of it. It was a good thing she banished the thought and took a moment to realign herself with reality. Otherwise, Wylla might not have noticed the blue-grey wolf in the trees, directly in her path. She faltered, but it was too late to hope he wouldn't notice her, so after a moment's hesitation, she kept walking toward him—he would either stop her or let her pass by.