The mare ambled haltingly towards the Cour des Miracles borders, her arrival marking the stroke of midnight. The cloudy rider hunched over in the saddle, exhausted from the days' ride and the events that had unfolded mere hours ago. She thought her little vacation outside of d'Arte would be at least a little fun, but apparently choosing a pack in the midst of a war was not the best first stop. Orin was lost in thought, drowning in the sadness that had come with her from her visit to Crimson Dreams. She had taken it upon herself to act as an envoy for the pack, stopping off to meet the Dreamers before continuing on to what would hopefully be a more light hearted social call to her old pack. While she was there she was greeted with skepticism and suspicion, and not a day after her arrival one of the AniWayan refugees had suffered a fatal injury from a riding accident. She didn't know the Utina woman but she had heard of her from her tribesmen, and she felt mournful of their loss.
The death of the woman was terrible, and Orin knew her presence near the pack lands would only burden the pack further during such a dark hour. She was forbidden from getting into political affairs, and ordered by her Capitana not to go anywhere near AniWaya, so just two days after her approach to Crimson Dreams, the self proclaimed emissary left the pack lands. She hadn't visited Niro in weeks and was excited to see him, but still a cloud would forever hang over this trip.
Moonlight lit her path as the horse clopped forward. They followed the coast, approaching the Court from the south-southwestern border. When she arrived at Crimson Dreams, Orin had the foresight to announce herself, but tonight her trek had been long and arduous – one straight shot of riding (and inexperienced, at that) for nearly 9 hours – and her mind was foggy. She didn't even notice she was in the Court until about a mile or two in when the mare nickered her anger at having walked for so long.
“Hunh?” Orin muttered incoherently and her eyes snapped back into focus. The mare came to a halt as the wolfess looked back over her shoulder, surprised and unsettled at her absentmindedness. “Thanks, Spot. You should have told me sooner.” She patted the mare's neck as though her announcement had been anything more than coincidence. The horse had been loping along for quite some time, and Orin knew she deserved a rest. Orin herself could use a good stretch, and didn't mind a reprieve from the saddle.
Swinging one leg around so she sat sideways in the saddle, Orin let herself slip off of the mare's back and landed with a soft thud. She wobbled and almost fell when unexpected pinpricks shot up her legs, and a hand moved to massage her thigh. “Oh, we've been riding for way too long.” Just as she said it the mare swung her great head around to butt Orin's shoulder as if in affirmation. Orin shot her a glare before smiling apologetically. “We'll rest more next time, I promise. We'll have a place to sleep in just a little bit.” She retrieved the reigns, pulling them over the mare's head and using them as a leash now as she led the mare farther into the land of Miracles, making their way to the most logical place – the Hotel - and hoping to run into just about anyone on the way.
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