All grown up

Vanta had not set paw in these woods for seasons, not since she was a mere yearling and the world was still a vast, uncharted expanse laid out before her crystalline eyes. The gnarled trees and the sentinel mountain had bore witness to her first breath, her growth, and now they would witness a chapter of change. The Fatalis princess had returned home. Not to be welcomed back into the mountain's embrace, but to seek absolution... and a familial blessing.

Her heart thrummed with trepidation as she ventured deeper, well past the border she had once patrolled. The ghost of her mother had chased her from these woods, and now, as a grown wolf, it summoned her back. The saber fangs that hung below her jaw - glistening like icicles in the sun - were not just an homage to her heritage; they were evidence that the path she'd chosen was one her mother approved of, a mutation granted to her by fire and flame during a restless fit of slumber. Only one thing was asked of her in return for the crystalline gift: that Vanta go home, that she seek her father before moving to forge her own path in the world.

Anxiety had begun to nip at her heels since the moment she'd crossed the border, an invisible weight that settled heavier overtop her with each step she took. The tightness in her chest, the subtle quiver in her limbs; Vanta could feel the familiar forest closing in on her, threatening to swallow her whole. Her mind raced with scenarios, each more daunting than the last - a cold dismissal from her father, a heated argument erupting amidst the stillness of the forest, or worse, an utter indifference that would render her dreams and ambitions... insignificant.

The uncertainty gnawed at her. Her heart pounded, her breaths coming a touch too fast, her ears tuned to the subtlest of sounds as if anticipating a confrontation at any turn. When had these woods - which she could once navigate literally with her eyes closed - transformed into a labyrinth of fear and dread? What if she, too, had changed too much to recognize? What if the the divide between her and her family had grown too wide to bridge?

The thought of her father's disapproval brought her knees to crumple and her spine to curve as Vanta tucked herself into a tan and blue little ball. There, at the base of a gnarled, towering oak, the girl whimpered. Too wracked with uncertainty to take even another step.