Old home

Voodoo hadnt really wanted to see what had become of her den in the nook. The volcano seemed perfect, she felt at ease in its presence. No pack scents on the borders any longer that was for sure. She vaguely remembered... this place had once upon a time killed her mothers mate far before she was born of course.

Voodoo began to climb further up the winding path. Looling for any useful and familiar herbs. She was glad her paws knew exactly where to take her. Gracefully takimg her steps.