Wanda wakes up feeling unwell. She frowns at the sensation, thinking maybe it's time to go home. As she pauses though, she feels an insistent tugging in the unwell feeling. After a moment's reflection, she gets up, pulling on her walking gear and stepping outside the cabin. The cold air takes her breath for a moment before she tugs her scarf up to cover most of her face and grabs her walking stick. The tugging leads her towards a patch of evergreen in the distance.
It's not a short walk, but Wanda's had a lot of practice in the last few days and she makes good time. She stops at the edge of the evergreens, frowning as she regards the darker spaces under the trees. Whatever it is, it's wanting her to come in there. She should know better, especially after recent events, but then she hears the plaintive cry and she steps under the boughs of the trees, delving deeper into the thicket. Before long, she stumbles out into a small clearing. The scent of blood hangs on the air, even as it stains the snow, but there's no sign of a source for the blood. Wanda frowns and stalking slowly around the clearing, looking for signs, but seeing little.