[aw] who are we to be so emotional?
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Open for anyone to hop in--set as a normal day in the 'Soulsverse in a non-descript northern territory. 8D And sorry for the longness--gettin' a feel for her.

Brilliant eyes critically looked over the trees ahead of her. The soft, dappled light signed no danger, and the girl stepped out from the cluster of trees she had been hiding behind, a feline following close on her heels. While she had washed away the Salsolian scent clean from her person, rubbed a generous amount of lavender and mint on her and Omitl, and even going as far as tying tiny branches of the potent plants to her necklace and the lynx's collar, she still felt exposed, open to all. Perhaps a better word was alienated--she had gotten all too used to being back home, that the wide world she used to venture seemed foreign, another planet, far away from her beloved home and mother. It made her uncomfortable, but with the lynx by her side, she gave her confidence.

A lone house in the woods had caught Harrow's attention a while back, when she was still roaming the lands as a vagabond with the Savin man. A pang of guilt was associated with the thought of him--but, no, she did not linger long on her emotions, and pushed them to the side. He mattered little now--she had her family, Salsola now. He was an outsider. But, there was still the ghost of sadness that she up and left him without a word when he took so good of a care for her. At least she could afford to reminisce, in a distant retrospective, the times with the man. That was then, this was now. And what she was concerned most with was now.

"We're almost there, Omi," she stated softly to the creature beside her, green eyes still staring awarely ahead for anything, or anyone, for that matter. "I am glad. I don't like out here--I very wary. Sooner get there, sooner back." The she-cat was as alert as the dark girl, and her accented voice was a quiet murmur, attentive for anything besides themselves. Her black muzzle gave a twitch of her lips, a formation of a reassured smile, and finally they stepped through a group of trees and into the small clearing that surrounded the house.

The house itself smelled of rot and decay, but that was it--not even the faintest scent of a wolf was found when she stepped close to the crumpled building. Perhaps she struck lucky, and found a place that was left untouched even by ransacking luperci. Maybe there was things in there that could be useful additions to the pack's inventory. Her imagination, somewhat childish, ran amok. She tested the front door. Sealed shut. She gave it a shove with her right shoulder. No budge. She gave it a powerful kick with her dominant leg, and--with a small cry of pleasure--its rusted holders broke and it fell flat on on the floor. With slight hesitation, the fear of spiders and bugs launching out at her prevalent in her mind, she went into the musky adobe, her eyes adjusting easily as the dark swallowed her up.

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