Forward dated to July 25th. I didn't know if you wanted to have this thread be with Ayita or Amaranth.
Voron was tired of running. The fear that had fueled her legs was fading. Deep in her brain she knew she had been foolish, but Cheron's ghost had gone too far this time. He had shown her visions of hell, a flaming landscape with their parents hanging from trees, the ropes around their necks digging into their flesh, swollen tongues protruding from their bloodied mouths. Voron had screamed and fled from the vivid daymare, leaving behind the ancient graveyard and Dahlia de Mai's old territory. Now she was alone in lands she had never seen before, somewhat lost, and terrified of accidentally blundering into someone's territory. She had fled south, leaving behind her meager possessions except for the medicine bag which she wore around her neck. From her short time in Dahlia de Mai, she knew that there was another pack this direction, but she did not know who they were or how they would receive strangers.
Pausing to lap at a shallow brook, the black female scented the air. She could smell the foliage and small creatures, but also she scented other wolves. The scent was somewhat distant, but it lay in the direction she was traveling. She could either turn back, or keep going until she reached the boarder. After a moment of indecision, she decided to continue on. She knew Cheron's ghost would follow her wherever she went, but it seemed better to flee than to return to Flander's Field at the moment. Plus, the day was nearing it's close. She'd not even come close to making it back before night fall, and she'd rather spend the night near other wolves, if at all possible.
Voron continued walking until she reached the boarder of a pack, the scents hanging heavy in the twilight air. Whining nervously, the black wolf paced back and forth on the neutral side of it. She knew not to intrude, but after the vision she had woken up to early this morning, she hungered for the company of living wolves.