Midnight danced upon the flesh of cold mounds, darting across endless barriers of rock and snow littered peaks. Though small in size, the obstacles proved full of excitement and treachery all in the same. Talons lined with hueless moisture padded silently across the realm, carrying the matted enchantress onward toward the calling scent of fresh pools. Never once had banshee imagined that her travels would lead her to such a place as this one full of turmoil and deceit. Oh, she could smell easily the plans of demise and torture ones mind could conceive. Enticing all the more, no doubt, that there were others whose thoughts were filled with such things. Chiseled bodice flexed as stilts pushed from the granite surface, sending her airborn for only moments and landing safely along the edge of the mound.

Never did her steps falter, for her hunt took her where the taste of crysal clear liquid could be partaken and ease the tindering flame inside her gut. How she longed for the taste of the flesh of a hare, or the tasty morsel of a common fox. Her thoughts plummeted within her empty stomach as it lurched and gurgled with anger. Soon, she would need to find food or perish. Amber flames lapped within their sockets as her sights rested upon the glassy surface of the pool. Fore-paws paused upon the edge, snout lowering to engorge herself with the cold, brisk water. Shoulders kept themselves poised in case of a quick escape, senses purged for any change in the air. Unknown were these lands and surely, anything could happen in mere moments.

Pink muscle danced within the sheer mass, gulping as much as she could in the limit of time she had. Never linger in a single spot for a long period of time. At least her travels in solitude had taught her something. Muzzle cleaned as vision lined the treeline that surrounded the domes. Several sounds of twittering birds and the faint scurry of tiny vermin caught her attention, pulling her in numerous ways. Perhaps it was high time she took her leave.