"Hey, can you smell this?"

"Yeah, I can. We should probably get moving."

Trisden hesitated, not sure about that verdict. As fulfilling as it was that she and Hocus had been able to sustain themselves so far - even if 80% of their diet consisted of scavenged remains - she knew that they would not be able to viably keep it up. Life was tough when you didn't have a pack around you.

She could not let such thoughts make her regret, though. She had had to leave. It was for the good of them all that she was gone. Trisden Lyall brought nothing but darkness to the Hollow, and she could not afford to risk her family's life because of her sins.

She looked over to see Hocus staring impatiently at her, obviously keen to get on with it. She hesitated. These were the first wolves they had come across so far, and she did not need to feel guilt for bringing darkness to stranger's doorsteps, not if they fed her...

"Come on," she said decisively, turning about to follow the scent trail. She did not see her brother roll his eyes and scowl at her back.

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Her heart beat heavily in her chest, a drumbeat to match her even steps. Every foot she drew closer was another foot further gone, and another foot she could not take back. She had thought that it would be difficult, this journey. When she had first turned back, the weight of it had been like a thick chain around her neck, dragging her down, begging her to stop. Those first steps had been the hardest.

At some point, a line was crossed, and she realised that the only way was onwards. It was strange, when she thought about it: the only way to go forwards was to go back. Back to her forest. Back to where her old demons lived.

But demons didn't really exist, did they?

As Trisden descended from the rocky foothills of southern Relic Lore, she happened to glance up and get a faceful of wind. It was funny how something as simple as a familiar scent was enough to bring a warmth to her chest, as if the barest of reminders of home lit a pleasant fire in your belly. Maybe that's what home was. Something which kept you snug, safe, secure. She tried to hold back the bitter reminder that she was a potential breach to that haven. While a lot of her perceptions had changed, it was difficult to break old habits, to simply dismiss old beliefs - especially when your nose was full of memories and nostalgia.

Was it so wrong to be nostalgic at her age? She was just a year old, and yet she felt as though she had endured five times as many. Hjornir had laughed at her and called her wise beyond her time. It was difficult to know just how much he was joking, and on that occasion, she had gotten angry with him. She had gotten angry with him a lot, come to think of it.

The view was quite spectacular from up here. She paused to stare at the world beneath her, amber eyes widening as the breath caught in her throat, and she nearly put her paw down without taking that forward step.

Demons existed. Trisden's lived in that world below her. So young, yet so full of doubt and regret, and she was afraid of what might resurface when she got back - but that was the whole point. Hjornir had been right, and as she stood there, gazing out at the forest of her birth, she knew it. Trisden Lyall did not run away from things. Trisden Lyall was proud, determined, and the daughter of a strong leader. She would not allow herself to be a stain in her mother's memory, nor the history of Grizzly Hollow. Trisden Lyall was a force to be reckoned with.

The paw moved forwards, came down, and without hesitation the young, troubled, headstrong girl walked on.

Trisden Lyall was back, bitches.

Entranced by the world beneath her, Trisden had been fairly oblivious to her more immediate surroundings. So long as the scent of bear, cougar or other threat didn't waft her way, she was not concerned; she was not hunting, nor doing anything but travelling. Always travelling. She had not realised just how far she and Hocus had gone with the Pilgrimage... needless to say, it had been quite the journey.

Of course, that only made her return all the sweeter.

The single word of greeting caught her ears, and she almost did not stop if not for the belief that it was for her - and even then, only because it had sounded so close. Though she did not really care for hurting the feelings of some random stranger, she did not fancy causing insult, especially because she was young and too tired to resist. Reluctantly, she did stop, turning her head towards the lithe shape which made its way towards her. For a moment Trisden simply watched, finding her movements pleasingly elegant. Trisden was not a wolf built for life on a mountain; her footing lacked confidence and expertise. But soon she would be on flat ground again, and all the better.

Her ears twisted forwards as the elegant stranger spoke again, her voice as smooth as her step. The young girl was too weary to take offence at such a statement (though she felt an unpleasant chill down her spine at the reminder of the fact that she was very much alone), and besides, it did not seem to have been said at her expense. A faint, innocent curiosity piqued within her, and she waited as the woman came up to the edge of the mountain beside her. The stranger was alluring in a way which implied that she knew it, too - and while Trisden did not share that mystique, she did share that confidence. She may have been intrigued by this female's aura, but she was not intimidated by it.

"I've never been up this far before," she replied honestly, tilting her head slightly as she observed the older female carefully. "And I always thought that a wolf on her own did not exactly have the luxury of lazy mornings. Besides, I have somewhere to be." I didn't come this far by making a habit of loitering.

You know, Trisden might have been young, but she was fairly certain that this was not quite how conversations worked. The 'I have somewhere to be' had been a subtle hint that she had hoped the woman would recognise. Trisden had gone a few days now with no social interaction, and while it was not something that the girl craved it was oddly relieving to experience it.

But she hadn't been joking. She really did have somewhere to be.

The rhetoric threw her for a moment, and with strained politeness she waited for the woman to elaborate, to say something she could actually respond to. Or did she rely on nothing but her whimsy to carry conversations? Well, that was going to get old fast, and Trisden frowned slightly, entirely prepared to point out this flaw in her social skills. Well, it was nice chatting with you...

But He was in a generous mood today, and saw fit to bestow upon Trisden yet more company, clearly feeling that her lack of it of late was in need of some compensation. It did not take long to realise that the two women knew one another, and it occurred then to Trisden to pay attention to their scents; sure enough, they bore the same pack signature. Well, wasn't this delightful. Her expression changed to one of patient weariness as the grey newcomer drew close, posing her rather intrusive question without hesitation or introduction. Was it really any of her business? Trisden hadn't really said it to invite an interrogation - she had been trying to be subtle. This was why she didn't usually bother. Everything was so much easier when you just said what you meant.

An ear twisted automatically towards the first woman as she greeted the other, Mist. Any teasing undertones to the manner of her voice were lost completely on the young Lyall, who really had no interest in the politics of a pack which was not her own. Trisden grappled with the question that had been posed to her for a moment, discomforted by its forwardness and by the way she had been so effectively sought out by two members of an unknown pack. This was neutral territory, she was quite sure. Was there something she didn't know? "Home." There. Simple enough. Perhaps they would get the hint now, or did she have to smack them around the head with it?

Taking a step back (just to regain her comfort zone) the new angle let her better watch the two strangers, and kept her just out of their reach. She was not accustomed to being treated with pseudo-friendly familiarity by pure strangers, and it rather unnerved her.

The unsure reply of the second woman made Trisden frown a little, finding this entire situation rather strange. But though the packwolf appeared to be uncomfortable, the sentiment had not been nasty; Trisden inclined her head in agreement, appreciative of the comment. Yes, it was nice that she had somewhere to call home. Whether or not she would be able to call it that in the long-term... well, that was another thing.

You left this home.

Instantly her demeanour shifted, the wary friendliness (or at least, lack of hostility) dissolving and replaced with the ghost of a sneer. Just what was that supposed to mean? She knew nothing about it - and it was not Trisden to shove her nose in somebody else's business! Had Trisden been making rude accusations about them? No, not at all. So what was her problem?

She did not like the way in which the timber woman saw fit to comfort the grey one, as if Trisden had been terribly upsetting - or maybe they were just offended by her presence? The presence they had imposed upon themselves? Trisden had no reason to be civil to a pair of nobodies such as this, no reason save the desire to please a greater being. But did satisfying God mean that she had to stand by and let herself be insulted? Surely, showing weakness was the last thing that would impress anybody.

"What's it to you?" she snapped, her amber eyes flashing as she glared at the timber woman. "You like preying on wolves you don't know? Laughing at them, maybe? Was that the point of barging in, to come and judge me? Get off on that, do you?"