Ava had had a somewhat off feeling about the day, even before she roused herself from her make-shift den that morning. Standing at the base of the Mountain of Dire the feeling intensified to the point where it nearly constricted her lungs. And in a few minutes, she would never be more sure that she should've just stayed her ass home that day.
She'd battled with the idea of returning to the mountain for weeks even before she'd crossed the border of the Lore. Not even to revisit the Poisoned ones, just to approach her old haunt. Nostalgia did not call her forward, but something certainly did. It almost felt as though she couldn't feel solid until she returned to her roots in even the smallest sense, like she wasn't back in Relic Lore unless she saw proof of a place she once belonged to. The only problem was the sheer amount of effort it would take to simply take a look at the Lost Lake. It took hours to climb, hours to descend, and it was a tiring labor for a she-wolf unfed. It almost took more ability to come up with the sheer gall to do it. There was no such thing as baby steps, in truth. How could she be expected to meander up the mountainside at a comfortable pace? Mountains were not made for comfort, and she was no longer a wolf of stone.
And yet she found herself at the base of it all anyway, a black figure against the iced grey surrounding her, with two legs in the dirt and two legs on the rocky trail. It felt like years that she stared up the beaten path, but finally the decision was made and she pushed off her static stance to begin the journey up. The stone was cold and slippery beneath her traction-less paws but discomfort was to be expected with such a long time away. The coal-pelted female moved slowly, almost delicately, with far less grace and speed than she used to tear through the foothills. But her blood was flowing, her senses were engaged, and it seemed that conquering the alp would turn out to be a good idea, after all.
It happened suddenly, then. Out of thin air the very stone itself shook beneath her paws and the summit growled at her approach, trembling so cruelly she nearly toppled over herself as she scrambled to a halt. Hackles raised in alarm she looked up the path to find the sky undulated downward - and a millisecond after that she'd come to the right conclusion. Time stopped, her amber eyes wide and plastered to the sheet of white that started overtaking trees high above her, and a cold realization washed over her that she'd just been rejected by the mountain. It'd felt her through her pawpads on the stone, read her traitorous heart, her betrayal in her bones, and turned against her. It knew, just like she did, that she did not belong here. And it fully intended to run her off.
Blind panic tried so very hard to steal control. Her dark limbs tangled with one another as the she-wolf whipped back around. The avalanche was still far ahead of her, but it gained with a fury she could not conjure even in her most venomous moments. As she leaped and slipped and tumbled away Ava felt her heart spasm, starting and stop in her chest, unsure if it ought to race to get her legs pumping faster or just stop and steal the avalanche's thunder for credit of her death. In the smallest window of clarity Ava understood she would never outrun the avalanche, but perhaps she could run its width before it swallowed her whole. Instinct swung her body perpendicular to the snow's path. The pale demon in her peripherals was all the motivation she needed to keep her legs from turning to jello no matter how weak terror made her. Like an ant she scurried, desperate and full of regret that she was even there in the first place.
One thing was certain; if the mountain found it in its heart to spit her out instead of swallowing her, she'd make damn sure not to make a symbolic trip near it ever again.