Things never go as planned

Her meandering path had taken her far from her usual haunts, which frankly for years had consisted primarily of her pack's lands and the battlefield. She generally avoided this whole area in particular given her traumatic memories of watching Enrico die saving her from the volcano's eruption when she was a child, really, and she had no idea why she'd felt drawn back to it now. Maybe she felt that this was the place that her life path had been derailed, the time she could have spent in growing and developing into her potential stunted by covering up the trauma of that moment. Maybe it was an acknowledgement to herself that it was time to move beyond that life now, and take control of her own destiny instead of passively accepting what came her way. Of course, annoyingly, a pack's boundaries now ringed the lands she'd come intending to do self reflection and whatever in. As she stood on that boundary, her lip curled in disgusted fury. This pack should have moved or fallen long ago and saved her the trouble. She was debating whether Tyrian would be upset if she just walked in, ignoring the boundaries and risking pissing the pack off, when a sudden foul scent assaulted her nose and she jerked her head to glare in affronted dignity towards the source.