Rin weaved deftly through the densely packed trees, the tips of foliage brushing against her sides as she passed along. For once in her life her small size came in handy; still, she didn't exactly feel like staying. Her paws itched for open space, but she ignored the plea and continued to follow her nose.
The she-wolf had been in Skotádi for four or five days so far. Rin had balked at the title bestowed on her, the dread that followed nearly paralyzing her to the spot. She'd smiled weakly and thanked the Alphas, before slinking away to the dens and falling into a troubled, twitchy sleep. The next day after taking a drink by the river, she caught her reflection in the water. She ended up staring at it for nearly half an hour: all ruffled fur, and dirt and dust from weeks of travel, and wide eyes looking back at her, thinking over and over, what the hell was she even doing?
...but really, you could ask that question about most anything.
On day four, everything was beginning to sink in. Day five, and she realized she should begin her work sooner rather than later. First job, stocking up... She needed to scope out the land and gather a solid store of herbs, especially before the winter frosts hit and killed them all off. Truthfully, the fae wanted to avoid this tangle of trees altogether. She'd explored most of the lands, but across the whole territory, this little grove smelled the strongest of herbs. So there she was.
Lowering her nose to the ground, she sniffed hard, focusing on one particular scent until fuzzy stems bumped against her muzzle. Tiny, blue, star-shaped flowers--that was borage, alright. Her tail wagged at the find. She neatly nipped off a few leaves, careful not to take too much, and placed them in a pile. One down, many more to go.