Shortly after sundown, near the border between the Kingdom of Hungary and the Duchy of Austria, Ekaterina follows the stream up the hillside. The instructions she had been given included many landmarks, and so far they had all been correct. She had passed the river of black blood (the mighty Danube), and the crying baby (a particular lightning blasted tree had an uncanny resemblance), then the scarecrow (a life-sized crucifix had been at the last crossroads), and then the trail of tears from a dying woman (the sun had set exactly in the space between two hills, and this streem had flowed down from that spot). Past this was only land of pain and death, where she would meet those she needed to meet.
She thought of her new tribe, and wondered what life with them would be like.
She smelled death ahead. Blood. Cold blood. Lots of it. So, it must have been a large battle. There was some stale smoke, but faded with age. So, probably several hours ago, now. Could this be the land of pain and death?
She continued up the stream, and pushed through the bushes into a clearing on a flat section of ground. The stream ran along one side of the clearing. There were bodies, everywhere. A couple were lupus. Most were men; she assumed homid. The men had tattoos on their bodies, as well. Or markings on their clothing. They were of the 13 tribes. Some of them, anyway. She saw members of the Red Talons. And some Silver Fangs. One or two of the Fenrir, as well. Among the bodies were also several Dancers, mostly metis. All dead. The battle must have been horrible. There were burnt trees, sections of torn up earth, branches ripped from trees. Some of the bodies were almost unrecognizable.
Were these the ones she was supposed to be meeting? Could the entrails have been wrong? Was she too late?
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Sasha is standing near the edge of a clearing. There is a stream running to the side of it, flowing down the hill away from her. She can tell that the sun has recently set; the sky is still brighter behind her, to the west. Looking around, there are many dead bodies. Some are men, some are wolves. Some are... something between the two? She identifies these as garou corpses of the three breeds. This fact doesn't seem to bother her much. She isn't sure how she got her, where 'here' is, or... for that matter, who she is.
She hears a noise to her side, by where the stream flows into the clearing, and quickly moves over to look. It's a quiet moan of pain. When she gets closer, she sees one of the garou isn't dead. He's only seriously hurt. Nearly dead. He doesn't seem aware of her, he's simply in pain and groaning from it as he drifts briefly towards consciousness.
As she studies the dying man, she hears another sound behind her. Someone has entered the clearing, moving very quietly, where the stream leaves it down the hill.
