Magg stared into the redwood forest, different without the haze of smoke all throughout. Too many things had changed since she'd last stood at this pack's border, both just months ago and forever ago, or so it felt. Her leg ached deeply, a constant pain that was slowly growing more and more unbearable, but not yet completely incapacitating her. Only because of Galen. Would she be dead now, instead of here, if he hadn't come across her? Brown eyes looked to her right where he stood, solid and dependable like he'd never been gone in the first place.
Then she took a breath, and tilted back her head, sending out a call for leadership. There was little doubt in her mind that the help they needed would be available. The wolves here were friends and family both, safety found at last. So why was her stomach squirming so much, then? Nervousness, a prickling sense of wrong. Maybe it was just a part of being so injured, bruises healing but hind leg still held outward at an awkward angle and unbending when used. They'd had a shaman here, right?