A pair of icy eyes scanned over the land below her.  TO her left lay the prosperous territories of SpringClan and SummerClan. She could almost feel the heat radiating from their lowlands, countered by the frigid breeze coming from the mountains of WinterClan. Even in early spring the cold of WinterClan showed no sign of easing its grip. It was unfortunate. The territory was in such a nice location, but the territory's hostility could not be understated. The Huntress understood this as well as anyone else. Her brief transit through the winter wasteland encouraged her to never return. 

She sighed and wrapped her tail around her paws. Perhaps it was time to move on to the next place. She had not visited the Regime's territory, but there was no time like the present. She tore her gaze from the territories and to the land at her back. The Regime was out there somewhere. She just had to find it. The Bengal glided northward over the terrain for a few minutes before stopping in her tracks as a stream soaked her paws. The stream here... it held some sort of power. Something unusual. She shrugged and leaned down to drink some of the liquid. 

(lavellan on the clan map she was on the northern cliff overlooking the Mountain Clans and went northward to the Moon Creek)