Welcome to Ambrosia!

[The Dreamer]

Continued from "The Hunt for Home"

What the hell is with this trail. This isn't even funny anymore.

Emerald had stopped to catch her breath for the third time. The trail was much longer than she had expected it to be, so she had to stop after running at full speed for a while. As she came to a halt, she stepped over to the side of the trail, panting like the dog she had become. Maybe the shape of a dog wasn't the smartest idea. Dog's can naturally sweat, so that added a lot of heat to her body that need to be expelled, and with that came more exhaustion. She sat down to collect herself and calm her breathing. There was more to go, and she was not planning on stopping any time today.

She looked at the sky above, noticing the sun starting to lower and the sky turning reddish.

I'm sure a shit not staying the night laying in the forest. She looked around at the lush greenery to the sides of the trail. Beauty often meant danger when it came to nature, and she certainly saw a lot of it; beauty that is. Yeah, that's a definite no on camping out.

After a few minutes, she began to run again, full speed ahead. As she moved, she began to see an end to the trail. Well it's about damn time. She picked up the pace ever so slightly as relief washed over her and her exhaustion.

Reaching the end of the trail, she came upon the edges of what looked to be farms filled with crops, as well as a few pens of yellow bird-like creatures. Nothing like what she'd seen before on Earth, but with all the shit she'd seen so far, she had little energy left to be shocked.

She continued down the path between the crop fields, padding along on her large greyhound paws, taking in her surroundings more... And all the creatures that seemed to drop what they were doing at the sight of her and run to their homes. What the hell is their problem? She huffed and moved along.

Although not all the animal-people seemed as scared as the rest, looking more angry in addition to fearful. Three even stepped up to block her way as she walked, pitchforks in hand... or hoof rather, as they seemed to be at least part pig.

She stopped and looked each in the eye, What the fuck do you think you're doing? She barred her teeth, waiting to see what these nitwits might try. She wasn't even close to full strength after the long day she'd had, but versus three little piggies with some pitchforks, she could blow them away.

She shifted to a canine form with a bit more muscle, and a little more fur.