She rolls her shoulders before stepping out of the small crevice at the base of the crags - preparing herself for a new day in the sun. For a while she has kept herself hidden away, a victim of self-isolation, but not any longer. When she saw Ruby that evening she knew that things had to change. She had to change.

That change may come in the form of returning to Iromar with her sister or even finding someplace else to call her home. But her heart seems to be pointing toward the moorland clan. She sets out as the sun begins to rise and reaches a place in the river where she usually watches the territory from afar. Except this time it’s become a confluence for others of all lifestyles - one of which she recognizes with an innate sense of fear.

Blackthorne.

Her eyes remain on him as he moves from one body to another, careful not to draw any attention to herself as she slinks past the outskirts of the gathering. He seems occupied with whoever he was conversing with now, a large female with an off-putting energy that she could sense from even here. Lethe didn’t want to fuck with either of the pair. No, not at all. No way.

She dips down the embankment and into a small thicket of tall grasses and young trees, hoping to evade detection. She had no intention of crossing the river and going into Iromar but she would if need be.