Marishka had finally found a home. It was in the damp, spider populated depths of Arachnea's Revenge, a place where after a drunken chance meeting with a very strange male named Cotl she had stumbled upon a small clearing with an even smaller cropping of cannabis plants. She found it a strange incident but a welcoming one and had passed out amongst its leaves. That was days ago and Marishka was well past recovered and had set up a small camp those six or so days ago.
It wasn't much of a camp; she had dug around the roots of one of the bordering trees of the tiny glade near the enticing plants, the canopy of leaves above protecting her from rain but not the occasional falling spider--which she did not seem to mind, she had a strange liking for them--and a pile of dried out leaves which she hid her supplies under.
The Russian girl did not have much so far and had spent many of her days clearing out the glade of debris and scavenging for food when she got hungry. Now though the violet eyed and copper haired girl felt it was time to add to her home. She of course wanted a tent so she could have the choice of sleeping under the cover of the stars or the cover of a cloth barrier but she really did not enjoy going to the human city and preferred to avoid it for as long as she could. The large buildings intimidated her and blocked her view from the ocean, which she loved dearly.
So some time in the afternoon during a break in the rain that enticed her from out of under the cover of the trees she headed north through the spider wood and out onto a rock strewn shore. The Russian could smell the borders of a pack not far off but kept a cautious distance, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention as she moved through the large widespread rocks of the northern section of the beach, just before the hillside could begin.
Marishka had brought her satchel and was collecting whatever small rocks she could find to line the beginnings of the fire pit she was building back in her seclusive glade. It was a nice distraction from the lingering thoughts of the utter bathos of her past. One that she would gladly welcome.
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