Rensley :3
Forward dated probably a little over a week with exact location vague!

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Liss probably should have gone back to the Druids. But then she might have to explain things she wasn't really sure she wanted to, just yet. Or ever, maybe. Her head hurt if she tried to think too much about the fever of the last week and what had come out of it... so right now, she didn't want to think about it at all.

She was off in search of adventure, and she would find one or make one. West, now. Calloused pink pawpads roved over fading grass and she followed songbirds through the woods, stopping every now and then to admire the array of colours on display in the cathedral of trees, or tease a busy chipmunk into scolding her.

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thank you for getting this up!

Skill: Ghost

Staying in one place felt wrong, and so the dog of Rensley did not settle. This body, however, was different from their old one in a way that felt both unsettling and somehow more complete. They were a physical being at all times and could no longer phase through plant life and trees, which had led to a bruised muzzle and fur ensnared in undergrowth.

It also learned of thirst and hunger. Humans had done so for the many, many years the dog had existed near that town, but it had never had to follow suit. The thirst was an easy fix, but hunger was more difficult to alleviate. It had found a very old, struggling rabbit and consumed that mere days ago, and already its stomach groaned for more.

Sleep was no longer a luxury, but was mandatory. It traveled until its legs shook and collapsed, and it could no longer keep its eyes open. Long gone were the days of simple dozing in the sun or lounging beneath the shade of an old oak.

Painful lessons were not a first for the black dog, but these physical needs were tedious and frustrating. The dog wondered how anyone lived like this, and gained a new respect for the humans it once watched over.

It skulked through the trees, sticking by the shadows as it was used to. The wolf it observed was not large, nor did it have black fur or crimson eyes. It was, however, quite loud, and did not seem to care who in the forest it disturbed. Curious, the dog of Rensley watched from the shelter of a nearby brush.

Skill — Hunter

This time it was a squirrel. A very big, very fluffy, very red squirrel with tufty ears, so it reminded her of a maple leaf and she thought it might be fun to try to catch.

She remembered chasing them with the other pups in the Vale, a race nobody ever won but the squirrel, but somehow you never cared if you lost. Half the time you got scolded and pelted with acorns for the trouble, and even then, it didn't stop being fun.

It had been more fun when she had friends to chase them with... but she wasn't deterred today.

The squirrel at present was, understandably, less invested in her game. When her head peeked over a lichen-speckled rock close by, it turned in sudden startle. Bolted!

Liss scrambled after, tossing up damp leaves and alfisol in her wake, cackling with gleeful growl as it darted away from her encroaching snout.

Right into a particular nearby bush.

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Feel free to evade or not, either of them, according to your preference lol

The dog could have predicted many things, but the canine sprinting directly at it was not one that it planned for. This was not immediately a problem - the dog was untouchable, after all, and it was very likely the other canine could not see them either.

Except... it forgot about its own current predicament. The fact that it now had a physical form, that is.

The collision was hard enough to draw a foreign yelp from the dog's lips, sending it tumbling from the force of it. The other canine's well-being was not known, nor did the dog of Rensley care much - not when it was currently concerned with sucking stolen breath back into its lungs.

Liss was leaner than she'd been a few months ago — a mark of adulthood coming upon her. But she'd had plenty of softness to spare, and could hardly be considered bony. Especially with the thick plush of a winter coat well on its way in.

These softened the blow of collision with a previously unknown vandr. A little.

Maybe.

The squirrel got away, like it was always going to do. Liss squealed, which was a less-expected outcome. Through the ringing in her ears and scolding of tree-rats, she wobbled back to her feet and felt damp leaves shed from her coat. Spit one out. Wrinkled her nose. And turned to squint blearily at what was definitely not a rock, but sure hit hard enough to be one.

Hey, uh — you okay? I didn't see you there. I mean, you were hiding, so I probably wasn't supposed to. But... She rubbed her head with a foreleg, Ouch. Hah. Hi, I'm Liss. Sorry about that.