Avesta had continued to linger around the highlands, following after Loach who inspired her and made her just a bit curious. She found the entire premise of the group that hung close to each other but was not bound by rules to be fascinating, to say the least. It, however, did not make things easier when it came to the winter weather. With no real structure, she was still left to fend for herself, to hunt for herself, and winter proved to make that difficult.
She craved for that winter to end, to let up it’s strangling hold on the world around them so she might fill her belly and not worry about starvation. Her stomach growled as she prowled through the Shroud of the Lost, hoping to break through the thick fog that lingered in order to catch some scent before the prey was alerted to her presence and made a break for it… so far, she was not having much luck, resulting in an irritated growl of frustration, huffing as she plopped her rear on the ground and looked around.
God, this felt hopeless.