Setting: Morning - Clear — 13° F/-11° C
The moon had set, rose then set again to give way to the morning light of the sun as Hexamora continued to travel south away from the sacred grove, putting as much distance between her and the dark coated male she had encountered in the powerful maze of trees. It was an interesting encounter and wouldn't easily be forgotten. She could still feel the light tingle under the patch of fur he had grabbed to stop her from walking away in order to return her skull to her. The very skull that was still clenched firmly between her jaws. Oh yes, she wasn't leaving her newly acquired precious possession anywhere it could be stolen.
Now the pale woman found herself treading through more strange lands, a forest of weeping willow trees surrounding her on all sides while the occasional low hanging branch would drag along the crown of her head and the gut wrenching stench of a packs boarder situated off to her left stung her nostrils. The woman made good to steer clear of them, keeping at least ten yards between her and the boarder line. Last thing she wanted or needed right now was some mongrel pack puffing their chest like they were hot shit and try to get an act of submission out of her or ask what her business was. Submission was not her style, never would be and neither was sharing her personal business with strangers. Why she was here were reasons only she would know, not them and so they should keep their nosy heads out of it.
Continuing onward she weaved her slender frame through the trunks of willow trees, her ivory tinted fur standing out in a stark manor against the deep ochre of the bark. Would Hexamora find another interesting adventure in this forest as she had back in the grove and creek where she had feasted on bison, filling the head of a young pup with lies that he foolishly believed. This thought was currently at the fore front of her mind as her steps came to a pause, her head lowering to gently deposit the skull in her mouth on the soft soil. Rolling back onto her haunches and tucking the wolf skull beneath her protectively she allowed herself to relax a bit, a moments rest to recover from the day long trek from the grove to where she sat now. Hexamora had refused to stop with intent on putting miles between the mystery man at the sacred grove and herself, hoping he didn't have intentions of following her. Now that she was convinced he wasn't the pads of her paws ached to be relieved of the ware of travel and thus she now gave them what they cried for. Peace, quiet, solitude. How wonderful it is.