Since settling into the hospitality offered by Valhalla, the charcoal colored fae was quick to return to her strength. And while she may not be quite back to the condition that she was once in, sitting idly by wasn’t doing her any favors either. The drive to move led her to be prompt in her resolve to get out into the land beyond the wall- a structure that was representative of safety, but also influenced a feeling of stasis. A state lacking the forward momentum that she craved. However, almost immediately, she was met with the heat of the western deserts. The further she went, the more dramatic the scenery became.
Pillars of rock and the deficit of canyons rose from the arid environment as if all signs of life decayed away from the backbone of the world. As she covered ground, the acidic medium beneath her paws slowly turned to sandstone. There was generally no cover to be found other than the occasional outcropping that could be used in desperation. But it was desperation that she hadn’t yet reached. Cassiela found herself tracing the trenches that had been molded by the gods. Wind brushed, and water swept, her steps fell into the path of least resistance towards the heart of the desolate valley. Gradients from scarlet to white were painted in layers consistent in each gulley and free-standing spike that surrounded her. Seemingly haphazard, but something told her there was a reason behind the patterns.
After a while of traveling, she passed an exceptionally large shadow cast by a monolith of sandstone. She found herself drifting into its shade. Allowing herself to settle on her haunches as she took a moment to rest. She never thought there would be a time when she longed for the tundra … but here it was.
