There was only so much in the girl; she could only go so far in one day. She had finally stopped to rest for the night, thanking the heavens above that she had been able to find a dry place to set up camp at. The tree's branches were long, but when she pushed the long tendrils aside she'd been able to see a dry patch that had been protected from the storm that had swept over the lands. Wretch had been fighting the winds and rain for the better part of the day, and now that it was night time she was planning to resign herself to the fact that she wouldn't get all the way down to the southern pack by the end of the day. She could rest, instead, and prepare for the next day's travels.
She'd scarcely eaten all day, wanting to trudge on through and weather the gusts of wind and slashing raindrops, and now her stomach growled at her as she prepared an area to sit down and rest. She pulled a few branches apart on the tree, watching the rain roar down from the clouds as lightning streaked across the sky above. Storms weren't her favorite thing, but they didn't bother her much. She no longer feared the rumbling thunder and flashes of light like she had when she was a pup. Wretch began to pull various items out of her pack. A piece of flint and steel were the most prized possessions that she had, and she took them from one of the side pockets with careful fingers.
With the dry pieces of tinder she kept in her pack, starting a fire wasn't all that difficult. The girl had one going in a few minutes, smoke traveling out of her tree-shelter through the hole in the branches that she'd yanked apart previously. She'd worn a cloak made of oiled leather on this day, certain that a storm was brewing the morning that she'd left. The girl had brought a few items to try to trade with the pack, if they were interested. She specialized in making slings for smaller luperci and pups to use to hunt, slings that used a simple rock to knock a bird from the trees or a rabbit on the skull. Her other weapon was a bow, though she used that less often. The strings that she used were very difficult to find and her last one had snapped. She'd have to try and find some when she passed through Halifax next. Wretch coughed a bit as she folded her cloak up, sitting on top of it. Her hands were cold and wet and so was her face, and she leaned into the fire to feel the warmth of it as the skies grew darker outside.
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