The night of the red moon had passed slowly, and she did not choose to dwell upon the omen that it presented. Instead, Metrophanes chose to cloister herself away from it. The teachings decreed that she pay homage upon this fateful night. Without her sisters beside her, without even a safe place to build an altar, it was best to simply let the hours pass. For the first few days afterwards, Metrophanes had felt a great distress within herself. A hollowing, as if she had allowed herself to be gashed open and something vital removed. It was the first time she had gone without her sisters or her gods - but there was no going back. She couldn't fathom witnessing their doubt. So she traveled. The trees around her were innocuous enough. Darkened by rain, and yet punctuated by the vivacity of autumn. The girl was saved from the biting wind because of her foray in to the wilderness, and for that she was thankful - however, Metrophanes did not know where to lay her thanks. That too, left her feeling numb with alienation.
She never went far from her safe haven; a junction of stone and forest, where an ancient cedar had fallen and wedged itself amid exposed stone. There was a den here, but it wasn't of her kind. It was old, dry, and smelled dimly of raccoon or some such animal. She was small enough, nimble enough, to use this shelter for a night. By morning she was aching all over, and resigned herself to future sleep in the open air. For a few days and nights, all she did was range between groves of trees. The passage of time was obscure to her. All Metrophanes could gauge was her own hunger, her thirst, and the solemnity of being so far removed from civilization.
It was the afternoon now, on day number who knows. The forest had thinned out as she slunk through it. Sunlight caught upon patches of ruddy red leaves, many which were piled upon the forest floor. She watched as dust drifted in the sunbeams - and even briefly wondered, Am I like these trees? Do I glow as I fade? And with a huff, the morbidity of her mind was ignored. Her hunger was too strong for her self-pity now.