Shrouded in Mist

The moment she sets paw in the forest, Thorne is on edge. Perhaps it is the thick swaths of mist shrouding the undergrowth, or the eerie hues and shadows painting the environment. Regardless, the fae, who constantly priorities self-preversation, starts bristling immediately upon enetring the cluster of trees. With hesitant steps, she weaves slowly through the territory, scanning the trees with narrow orbs of cerulean blue. At every sound, every snap and crackle, the mahogany she-wolf pauses to check her surroundings, ears peeling back into the curve of her cranium. The fur along her spine stands on end as she continues on, alert and wary, ensuring that there are no potential threats nearby.