The fight against the worm was brutal, and the last thing Corbie remembered was the young Raider trying to stop the blood from pouring from her wounded leg. So when Corbie opened her eyes again, she was distantly surprised to find herself not in the cavern anymore. She was alone in a clearing full of long, sweet smelling grasses. Bright blue fireflies blinked all around her and lent their faint glow to a night time that needed surprisingly little illumination. She tilted her head to the side to study the unfamiliar place. She didn't know how she got here... But she was uninjured as well. That was admittedly the far more concerning fact. Given the severity of what she vaguely remembered... Was she dead, then?

"Corbie." The quiet voice of her long-gone mentor and guardian startled her into turning. He stood there silhouetted against the moonlit grasses. Young, unscarred, the youthful healer she knew he had once been.

"So I am dead." Her words were quietly matter of fact, if a bit regretful. Avalon deserved better than to have their alpha simply never return home. If she'd known it was her time, could she have set them on a course to continue on without her more easily?

Time had less meaning here, but still Tornach got the sense he had been there for quite some time when he felt a call drawing him. He leaped lightly through the shining, sweet grasses, agile as he hadn't been for so long before he had passed away here. At the sight that awaited him he paused. "Corbie," he said softly. His face softened at the sight of his once-ward. He padded over to her, his eyes traveling her care-worn form. "Ah, Corbie, you've had a hard time of it since I left you, haven't you?" She felt, simultaneously, both as of she were more real than he and more insubstantial. She wasn't really here, didn't truly belong here yet, so at her statement he shook his head. "No," he told her gently. "It's not your time yet."