Redtail Rise dear fellow traveler under the moon

The skies had opened as the ghost followed a forgotten footrail through the Rise. It was terrain she was only vaguely familiar with, having passed through once or twice on her various stints within Teekon. The season was turning; the cold in the air seemingly thickening with the moisture it could not hold. Once, the ostmen might've continued in spite of the weather -- enjoying the soft music of it falling against the gravel underfoot and smashing gently against the distant treetops in the forested parts of the mountain. With age, her hips had come to ache horribly in the rain and to travel in the damp would only irritate her lungs -- bringing back the cough that came and went with the winter. 

It would be better to settle somewhere for the night and continue searching for her daughter with the sun.

The downpour, light as it was, had washed away much of the man's scent, so that the snowdrop did not realize his presence until he was just up ahead of her. She continued on, peace having brought with it acceptance. Whatever lay ahead could not be worse than anything Liri had seen. 

She paused when the he-wolf could be spotted, woodland eyes blinking against the drops that fell on her face as they drank in his pelt of nightsky and the skeletal markings bleaching his points. A soft, curious murmur escaped her throat -- any words unshaped and muffled by the rain. He might've inspired fear but then so might she -- ghastly scarred thing she'd become.