When the door opened, Ralla was greeted by a wolf-hybrid female, confirming her earlier suspicions. She seemed quite tired, and when Ralla realized just how late it was she felt a little foolish. But the vision... If she didn't get going then, winter would set in and it would become too dangerous for her to travel in a new land without knowing about just how bad the winter would be. Come to think of it... Why haven't I done a reading for the weather yet...? No! Concentrate! Horse! Horse! Standing straighter, Ralla tried to appear in control of herself, even as her mind raced to center and organize everything that she was about to do. The basket filled with her meager supplies was clutched tensely in her hands with the blanket tied securely to the top of it with some old rope she had found scavenging the abandoned huts; something that had become a bit of a past-time for her.
"Hello; my name's Ralla. I know this is really sudden, but I need to borrow a horse, please. Tonight!" The way she said it, she did not mean to be rude. By way of softening her words, she laid her ears back and curled her tail under herself to show submission. She, as a new pack member, was at the bottom rung, and the wolfess before her--judging by her abode and Ralla's sightings of her in the stables--was obviously still higher than the white female. "One that can run fast for long distances." And then a particular thought hit her.
"Also...um...Is there anyone to ask specifically if I can leave for a little while...? Maybe a week or so...?" A strange request? Yes. A necessary request? Yes. A presuming request? Yes. And it seemed so backwards to the previous Shaman. She had just arrived at the place that she had dreamt about as her new home, and suddenly the moon was telling her to go on a journey. In fact, this is impossible! I shouldn't be able to see my own destiny in my visions! But maybe the moon's trying to tell me about something else? Then it would be relevent and within the Shamanic ability... In Ralla's head everything was so jumbled that she was sure her composure was slipping in front of the hybrid-wolfess; if she even had the attention span at the moment to notice it.
Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.
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