Rocky Canyon — [AW] inexplicably, nowhere

She awoke with a sharp gasp, her body jerking upright with such force that her legs gave way, sending her sprawling back to the ground in an uncharacteristic display of ungainliness. As she lay there, disoriented, heat pressed in around her like an inescapable, oppressive weight; the world reeled around her, a dizzying kaleidoscope of opaque color and bright light.  The air, thick with sand and the tang of salt, tasted foreign—dry, abrasive, almost hostile. Her heart pounded in her chest, panic tightening its hold with every breath. What is this? she thought, her mind grappling for answers. What…

Shards of disjointed memories flashed through her mind, elusive and fleeting, slipping just beyond her reach each time she tried to grasp one. It was as though her thoughts were caught in a relentless whirlwind, swirling and scattering before she could make sense of them.

And then, without warning, the fragments converged in a sudden, breathtaking rush. An icy jolt of clarity tore through her, sharp and unyielding, cutting through the dense fog of confusion, the oppressive heat, and the mounting panic that had gripped her. Her body went rigid, impossibly blue eyes sharpening with renewed focus, while the silver-touched hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, a cold shiver rippling down her spine. Slowly, cautiously, she glanced down to assess herself for injury. The cream of her legs and underbelly was stained with the bright green of grass, and moist earth clung stubbornly to her paws, bits of leaves and twigs tangled here and there throughout. Petrichor lingered in her scent. It was all so at odds with the sandstone monoliths and dry scrub she now found herself surrounded by - it felt like only moments before, she had been running through the damp, mossy forests of the Euphratian Kingdom.

No, it could not be. Not moments. Hours? Days? The passage of time felt meaningless, lost.

Was this death, then? Hell was a notion both absurd and oddly plausible—escape had never seemed more than a fragile hope at best. But dead?  Vidette had never bowed to the dictates of the Church, never tethered herself to the comfort of its promises, and yet, here she was, confronted by the question. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to steady her breath, each inhale slow and deliberate, each exhale purposeful.

No, she decided with firm resolve, shaking her head as though to physically banish the notion. Abducted, perhaps. Rising once more, with far greater poise this time, the thought began to take root – far more sensible and anchored in reason. After all, she would make a most excellent ransom. Her station, her wealth, the priceless jewels still caught in her fur, adorning her neck and wrists – each an irresistible incentive for such a crime. And then there was another reason, a darker one: the one she was running from. Where, then, are my captors?

Slowly, deliberately, she turned in a full circle, her movements unhurried, each step measured with precision. Coarse grit ground into the tender flesh between her toes. A trace of frailty, artfully woven into her posture, lent her the appearance of vulnerability - an intentional performance, a calculated weakness in case unseen eyes were upon her. Her head tilted ever so slightly, her gaze soft yet focused, scanning her surroundings with a quiet intensity that betrayed none of her inner vigilance.

Inexplicably, she was nowhere.

Fear threatened to creep in once more, to shake her resolve, but she pushed it aside, unwilling to yield to its grasp. No sign of civilization greeted her—no encampment, no path, no whisper of verdant forests or snow-capped peaks on the horizon, not even a hint of cloud in the sky above. Arid emptiness stretched before her, vast and unfamiliar. No one was there. No servants, no handmaidens, no guards nor jailers. It was as if she had been plucked from the world she knew and thrust into another — one devoid of sense or reason, a realm completely foreign and utterly forsaken.

“Ah,” she murmured, her lashes fluttering. “Hell, indeed.”

ooc: had to figure out how she got here and just getting back into writing, sorry for the fluff! 

Her adventure to find her friends continued as Reed pressed on past her encounter with Matthias and Roxanne and headed south. If her internal compass was correct, she was quite a ways west from where she had washed ashore and encountered Quinnat. 'How long has it been already?' she wondered to herself. Her green gaze shifted across the rocks and pebbles that littered the once was river Reed followed. 'I know he's ok. He has to be ok. If I lose him too, I don't know what I'm going to do.' For the first time since washing ashore with her S.S. Tallulah scattered against the banks alongside her, Reed felt herself fall into her heartache and sorrow. She was alone. She didn't have to be a hero when she was alone. 'When I'm alone, no one can see me cry about how sad and homesick I feel.' 

"Ah... Hell indeed" 

Panic overcame Reed suddenly as she realized that she was not alone. She froze, her heart suddenly beating quickly in her chest. Were they trying to sneak up on her? Drats, she should have been more alert! This was why she wasn't allowed to cry! When she cried, she let her guard down and then bad things happened. Reed wiped the sadness off of her face and hardened her expression, wishing with all of her might for the tear stains to dry faster. A sharp sniffle confirmed her readiness and Reed stepped forward once more, looking for the source of the sound. 

She rounded a particularly large rock structure and found what she assumed to be the source of the words. "Eh, I wouldn't be callin' it Hell. I've definitely seen worse than this." She forced a smile on her face and paused a respectful and healthy distance away from the stranger. It was then that she gave her a once-over and quickly declared her as elegant. There was just something about the way she held herself. "Tho, I don't think I'd call this place home, either. You just passin' through, like me?" Maybe if she were lucky, they were just passing through. Maybe they would even be going in the same direction. Having someone to chat with sounded way better than dwelling with how much she missed her friends and how she was starting to actually worry for both of them.