Ankle-deep in the frost Ava left a straight line of broken paw prints. It would've been easier to come through the mountains - that was the way she had left, after all. To re-enter through the meadow was more symbolic; this was the first soil of Relic Lore she'd ever touched after all. But she'd grown quite used to the lack of stone's scent in her fur and in truth, the idea of returning to her old haunt still frightened her, a fact which Ava would keep contently to herself even if asked.
She would not go to seek them out. Not yet, anyway.
All wounds had been replaced by scar tissue, tough and untouched, at least until she conjured up the idea in her head that it might be wise to return. Unfinished business, so many words left unsaid, an entire life left unlived... who could bear it? Not she, certainly. Though tonight the icy touch of winter's night served well to leave a blanket of ice over the memories in her unpicked brain. After all, now was not the time to fill herself with regret - something like food would be more practical, all things considered. Living lone for several months had left her weaker than usual with a gauntness that showed in her face and a slowness in her step that was entirely uncharacteristic of the fleet-footed huntress.
And yet for all her hardship the fire in her eyes burned brighter than perhaps it ever had; a deep-rooted red shining past the golden touch of her amber eyes as she moved slowly but with dedication across the eerie field.
Ava had blamed the dysfunction of the Poisoned wolves for driving her out, but that had to be farce; it was nothing more than her own maladjusted will that had moved her from the Lake. Solitude at first had been a welcomed relief but it proved only to stifle her ability than uplift her spirits. The last time she had been within the Lore's boundaries she was taken under oath swiftly. Rhysis found her, fed her, and gave her an immediate in: be a founding member, help create his pack. It'd been a swift choice, one with which she fought for a moment's time, and yet ultimately Ava gave her entire self to the cause. And through it all she'd bled for them, but she'd bled beneath them - the founding fourth, the third, the Second-in-command. Never was she head of the table. One thing at least was certain of her return: this time she wouldn't be so complacent.
As the dark figure broke further and further into the white-blanketed Meadow it was clear that no frostbite in her toes or woes in her heart would stop her. Head held high, here she was: Ava, rid of poison, daring to blaze a trail of her own.