It would seem that pack life suited the woman no more than it vexed her, leaving Celandine utterly indifferent to her new living situation. She spent most of her time doing exactly what subordinates were expected to do, and aside from the occasional conversation with Craw, there was little else to sate her undeniable hunger for anything else. At that point she would have even taken something as minuscule as a hunt so long as it served in breaking up the endless doldrums of pack life on the lowest tier. Her paws were itching—a feeling all too familiar to the alabaster woman—to move, and she had finally decided to give them what they wanted.
Rising early—well, early for her—the woman began her journey traveling southeast of the monadnock, curious as to what lay beyond their new home. She planned on returning by midday tomorrow which shouldn't have raised any red flags, but still the pale fae made it a point to check in with Craw. If she got caught up, at least her absence wouldn't be mistaken for desertion. Only few short months ago Celandine would have scoffed at the idea of letting someone know that she'd be gone for the day, but that was then. Back when she couldn't be refused upon arrival, regardless of how much time she'd spent away. When the tiara still sat just so on her immaculately groomed head, and her name still held power. How the hell had she gotten here?
At least the large male had seemed more enthused about it than burdened by her departure, however short it might be. She left with the promise that she'd bring back something to report. Even if it was just that there seemed to be a never-ending supply of field mice hiding in the low standing brush.