Attica had picked a bad day to descend from the mountain, the rumble of thunder threatening a downpour to come, but it was time wasn't it? That she ventured away of her new refuge. She didn't like her chances of hunting on the steep and slippery slopes when goats were so surefooted, and her stomach growled in tandem with the angry clouds. She would have far better odds on the rise, and the rain might even mask her scent.
As the ground levelled out beneath her paws, brown stems where blood red flowers had once bloomed, she couldn't help but glance to the north wondering how the willows fared and if her brother had returned home yet? She pushed her curiosity down. On another day, under other circumstances she would stop by, but survival outranked her curiosity for now, and the fear that they would try to make her stay was enough to stay her paws.
Even from here, she almost thought she could even make out the lone willow, set apart from the rest... but bile rose in the back of her throat and she turned back to the west. Food. She needed to find something to eat and then she could retreat to the tunnels under the serpent until the weather eased. She wasn't sure how long she had until the clouds overhead would break.