Days had passed. The hollow pits once pressed against Koyuki's haggard body grew full. Skin remained pressed against the contours of her bones, speaking of starvation, of famine, of her neglect—yet, the crippling agony of her stomach churning in ravenous hunger was gone. Again, she was calm. Body and mind at peace with each other—a sensation she'd forgotten about.

As grateful as she was for Fable 's hospitality, she was no less reticent than before. Koyuki wandered the contours of the territory, basking in the chilling gales that blew from the northern Vale. Charcoal and silver stood out like a sore thumb as the snow thawed. Never had the snowed dame noticed the crimson hue of the foliage below. Cerulean eyes intrigued, she dipped her head and observed the frost-laden turf.

Small incisors snipped against the grass, lifting aromatic herbs of all types. Without a second thought, her tail slowly swept against her hocks. The trivialities of gathering medicine... how it filled her with nostalgia.

Finally calm—and then she heard footfalls. Koyuki's head rose. Her lips pursed, brows beginning to furrow. This was not... her land. This was the land of Avon—of Fable and her family. She merely laid within their comforting hospitality harboring no responsibility over the lands. Yet...

Vigilance puppeteered the saturnine she-wolf towards the border. Tail held stiff against her haunches, sharp ears pointed forward. The coat of vibrant russet was nearly identical to the grass's shade of muted red—yet, his presence was not missed by the keen set of eyes. Koyuki halted, head held high yet eyes glancing low.

You, she spoke with a voice soft from lack of use, rumbling against her throat like a large cat's purr. You are tresspassing. A twitch of her ear, and her head canted aside. Where do you hail from?