[The itch to run has been growing since day one and after three days of being locked in the city she couldn't ignore it anymore. Freya stashes her backpack and clothes about a mile from the wall, tucking her belongings safely out of sight before letting the moon bathe her skin in light. She smiles and inhales as her body begins to shimmer and change.
She stretches and shakes out the glimmering pure white of her fur before taking off into the woods. The ground flies beneath her as the scents of the woods surround her. Freya isn't hunting tonight, she's just exploring, discovering what predators wait for her out in the woods. There are monsters and other odd smelling creatures but nothing that gives the werewolf pause as she makes her way through the wilderness.
The rich scent of smoke fills Freya's nose as she circles back towards the wall. Curiosity gets the best of her and she follows it, pausing when she reaches a small house, smoke billowing from the chimney. Who would live out here? A few different theories skitter around Freya's thoughts, ranging from a witch who lives in a gingerbread house to the quarantine equivalent of big foot.
Freya pads up to the door and begins to scratch at the wood, whining softly to be let inside.]
Small house --- February 3rd.
She stretches and shakes out the glimmering pure white of her fur before taking off into the woods. The ground flies beneath her as the scents of the woods surround her. Freya isn't hunting tonight, she's just exploring, discovering what predators wait for her out in the woods. There are monsters and other odd smelling creatures but nothing that gives the werewolf pause as she makes her way through the wilderness.
The rich scent of smoke fills Freya's nose as she circles back towards the wall. Curiosity gets the best of her and she follows it, pausing when she reaches a small house, smoke billowing from the chimney. Who would live out here? A few different theories skitter around Freya's thoughts, ranging from a witch who lives in a gingerbread house to the quarantine equivalent of big foot.
Freya pads up to the door and begins to scratch at the wood, whining softly to be let inside.]