Moonspear Every road to recovery starts at the breakdown

Oftentimes she wandered now, trailing paths both familiar and not; it kept her mind occupied and her senses working, kept her from growing dull again. Always was she careful now, moving against the wind and redirecting herself when canid scents greeted her nares. But when the rain came, those same scents became scattered—not absent entirely but scattered about, various pieces of a puzzle that she couldn’t grasp the entire image of. It unnerved her, left her crouching low and stalking through the storm, just about ready to head back to the peaks—

—but then there was a shape and that shape took the form of a wolf. Stilled instantly, her hackles raised and ears flattened against her skull; she did not recognise him anymore than she might a true stranger. And then, without hesitation, her head flung back and out came her cry for @Hydra.