new beginnings

The faint rattle of bone was the first thing to announce a new arrival to the lands. A tiny figure, almost more catlike in size than wolf like, padded through the growing twilight. Chill and biting, the wind cut through the thin black coat. Harrowhark tilted her white-painted face to the wind and ignored the icy cold in favor of scowling at the sky. She wasn't ready to stop her journey, but evening was setting in quickly and it was the dark of the moon - good for new beginnings, not so good for travelling at night. She made a faintly disgusted noise. Very well, she'd stop for the night.

Decision made, she saw no reason to waste her time with any nonsense of setting up a camp, she simply lay herself primly down in the lee of a ruined wall to wait for the sun to return.