- we are all decieving, lost, and bleeding.
Cream limbs stretched along the rocky terrain, dragging her up, and up to her former home. The lady's wounds had become dark scars now. Some hair was trying to grow to hide the ugliness, but it would be awhile till that happened, if it did. As for her muscles they still protested to and again, but she was alive and felt ten times better than she once had. She knew some time she had to pay her saviors back, right now she had a lot to figure out. Maybe that was why she wanted to return to the mountain. She had thought to avoid this place, but upon Inkheart disappearing once again it only felt right to return. She hadn't anywhere else to go, and she had to see if anything had become of it, if that slim so minuscule chance of someone returning could be or not.
Small rocks tumbled underneath worn paws, sometimes her ears would drift back to the ricocheting bounces, or she'd pause wanting to be sure she was alone. All the while overhead gray clouds hung in tight groups, and she glanced up at them daring them to rain upon her. A summer shower would be nice, something to pelt her, perhaps numb her against her scattered thoughts. A heavy huff, her butterscotch eyes grazed over the familiar landing of rock. She looked for pools of crimson, but saw nothing. Her nostrils breathed deep, but she did not smell anything recent. She could only smell the coldness of what was the mountain. Ears twist, lids shutting away the pale lighting. She had expected this, but it was still a letdown.
Soft sigh brushing long her vocals, she steps further taking a good look around. How often she'd wandered here thinking about leaving, and here she was. A twist of her tail, she pushed herself into a trot, and stopped just outside her old leader's den. A moment of silence she stared blankly at the opening.