OOC: Edge of the Serena Reserve! 400+
It was as if she couldn't quite believe what had happened, or understand that they had succeeded. But the truth of it was, the entire land had wanted those invaders out. They'd been driven away by more than just an army, but a combined force from several corners, including within their own ranks. They wouldn't be coming back, unless they wanted more of the same. Outsiders who behaved like barbarians would always be sent packing, if Caspa had anything to do with it. She hadn't said much to anyone, but she was proud of her leaders for making a stand on the side of justice and right. Today, a clear day with a chill in the air she was retracing her steps, following a similar direction to the one the Cour des Miracles canines had walked on the day of the attack. The fog and adrenaline had prevented her from really seeing the terrain, and she thought if she took a second look, perhaps she would make sense of the details of that confusing day, before she was called upon to give a report of the happenings to anyone. A grandiose, boasting mutt from the North, for example.
Before she'd reached the borders of Aniwaya, though, she ran up against a sheer barbed-wire fence, almost literally. A young hare hadn't been so lucky - it seemed to have tried to leap over, and become entangled before choking itself to death. Caspa eyed the fence balefully as she tugged the dead creature free. The fence hadn't got in the way before. Her leaders must have known a way to get through - but she had obviously strayed from the trail a little, because there was no visible gap from here. She hooked a paw through, then rattled the fence, a little irritated. It stayed firm, jangling some but showing no sign of coming down easily. With her various bruises, she didn't fancy much climbing; besides, she was in her lupus form, and those barbs looked sharp. Caspa scratched with a long, floppy forepaw, tearing up a negligible amount of dirt, but it was enough to see the wire continued at least a little way into the ground. She glared at it through her supercilious, half-lidded eyes, as if criticising it for being a poor example of an obstruction, then turned to give it the cold-shoulder, trotting parallel to the fence, the dead hare in her jaws. Hopefully, this direction took her to where she'd followed previously.
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