notes: ranger 1/5

She had been terrified. The voice that had entered her head had told her about Mythris, and Pragma knew it was not a dream because in her dreams, she could not hear. It was a strange sort of phenomenon to her, but her mother had always explained it was to train her to not be caught up in the word, but instead focus on the action. It did not help much when she saw faces she could not put names to, people that she knew and yet could not place. And then the voice -

Another gust of wind that had swept through the trees and made them creak and sway. It might have been a beautiful sound if not for the way that it was haunting. The undertones of what was happening in this strange world kept her up at night and made her uneasy. She'd spent a couple of days in the quiet of the forest once she'd parted from the coy pair. She'd already been exploring, navigating her way along the pines and the trees, to find where others lived and where to avoid too. Pragma knew that she was painfully alone. She knew that she couldn't continue on alone, not with the aching cold that all but burned her paws.

Pragma needed to find shelter - that was her current hunt.