73ºF (23ºC)
Evening
The morning had started early for Kuwindwa... earlier than most wolves bothered to rise in the Vale. The younger members preferred to sleep in oftentimes, while Wind's own sleep patterns had scarcely improved in the months since she'd joined their ranks. The warrior and would-be guardian, however... she was lucky to sleep more than a few hours on a good night, and this morning had found her restless and sleep-deprived. She set out in the whee hours—the night still dark—to patrol her usual routes, then sought to do some hunting. Nothing new, nothing changed... just a metaphorical itch that pushed her further and further out from her pack's land. It had turned into a hunting expedition again at one point in the afternoon, but after that failed the woman wandered east in a fashion not so unlike how she had moved months before, when she was still a lone wolf.
Her mind wandered along with her paws. Maybe she was just... tired. Maybe, somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought being part of a pack again would change everything—make her better again—but it just... didn't. She still felt like an empty husk, soul torn to shreds. She had purpose, but something was lacking and she couldn't quite place what was missing. The circles needed to end, but Kuwindwa was still lost.
Maybe it was fear that kept Kuwindwa firmly grounded to the areas around her new home—lingering paranoia—but today, though unintentionally, her wandering had brought her much farther out than she usually did, beyond the Copse, and into the Fen. Mud squished unpleasantly between her toes; everything here seemed soggy, oozing with wetness in a most unpleasant way. She vaguely recalled the area from her journey months ago... she ended up lost in Umbra Copse, entrenched in mist and snow. This area had been a little more frozen back then. Now it was humid and the sky was threatening to open up overhead. The grey clouds swelled and rolled, ready to downpour, often without warning. In fact, Wind was certain she felt a few droplets land on her dark nose, prompting a quick shake of her head and a soft snort when she managed to plough her nose right into a wet bush rather than dispel the water. It was later in the day and there was no way she would be back in Quaking Vale before night fall. Groaning softly, Kuwindwa considered her position.
The soft chirruping of crickets, the croak of the occasional frog accented the darkening fen's choking atmosphere—the dampness seemed to muffle their sounds and clung to Kuwindwa's pelt. Looking over her shoulder, Kuwindwa knew she should turn back. Without their defender, would the Vale be safe? But she was growing weary, and she wondered how she had managed to move so much over the past year without feeling this level of exhaustion... maybe she should find some place dryer and rest for the night? It was just one night... she could return post-haste with first light.