a hunt {open}

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The first signs of Winter was masking the lands, especially in the north. The wind was becoming colder and colder each day, but those who lived in the North were used to the cold. One individual wasn't far from the coasts of the North. The only thing that blocked her way from Bear Island was a few miles between where she was now and the coast, as well as the miles of the Bay of Ice which were treacherous especially with it being early winter. Usually when it was well into the Winter the cold air and snow would freeze it or when it was Summer one could easily cross by boat. But now that the water was starting to freeze over there would be potential stretches of frozen ice that could block the route. However, since it was only early Winter Imogene hoped that she could get a boat from Deepwood Motte to Bear Island.

However, the young female Mormont had still miles of partially snow covered land to cross before she got to Deepwood Motte. She was wearing a small deerskin that she had bought from the Vale and she had decided to travel on foot. It was beginning to become a long journey and at first she wasn't exactly sure where she wanted to go. She hadn't seen her mother and half-siblings in years and she felt she owed them a visit; most especially her mother though she did have her half sister and brother as well as her step father.. but she was beginning to miss the company of others, especially family. And even though when she had been on Bear Island she missed the forests there, the hunting there being else where in Westeros had made her have a longing for 'home'.

She'd gone to White Harbor from the Vale and was now making the remaining trek through the North to the coasts of the Bay of Ice, the frozen landscape that had been home for her early years. She was now traveling through Wolfswood which would make for a good hunt. She'd set up a camp though she did not start a fire. It was late afternoon but it was maybe an hour till sunset. With her small companion, Rhen, she set out for a hunt. The first thing that she came across was a tan rabbit. Armed with her short bow from behind a bush she made her aim, watching the rabbit carefully she was about to shoot when something scared the rabbit away and she'd let her arrow go. Her arrow would miss the rabbit by a few inches and it scurried into its burrow. Looking around she looked for the source of what had scared her meal away... Her falcon soon flying down and landing on her shoulder, though he had not been the source. It had been something else, a twig snapped which someone might have stepped on.