The drive back in the wretched car that they had been lent to use was silent, Feralupina's arms crossed over her chest as she stared out the window. If she had her way, she would be in her full on wolf form and running back to the estate, rather than riding in this machine that spewed out toxic fumes which in time killed the world that she loved and held dear so much. A pout was on her lips, and her rather unique, small eyebrows were pressed together, as her eyes focused on one thing in the view that passed, following it until it was out of her sight, before repeating the process on another target. It was her way of coping with the fact that she hated car rides, and if she hadn't this particular thing to keep her mind off of it, who knew how annoyed she would be. In her minds eye the falling tree leaves that she saw were not as such, instead they were droplets of blood, and the dust that was seen due to the dappled sun filtering through the trees were tears from her fallen enemies. It was amusing really, the varied level of emotion one might feel before falling victim to the clutches of death. Sadness, remorse, fear, guilt. One or many of these variables.<br/><br/>They finally reach the estate, going through a set of gates, and once they were parked she doesn't even answer in response to what Alexin said to her about changing her clothes. She was half tempted to defy him on this, and just insist on eating in her blood stained attire, but decides not to. He would know her at least well enough by now that she was always hungry after a mission, so she knew no doubt he would do as he said and get her that steak he promised. As she steps away from Alexin she doesn't look back once, focusing on her brisk walk through the estate, ignoring any looks she might have been given by the people who were already there. She knew that a lot of them disproved of her method of working, but she could not care less what they thought. No, her only goal was becoming the most useful and experienced of the Trackers, not that she wasn't pretty much that already.<br/><br/>Making her way through the halls of the grandiose building, her feet automatically guiding her along her way, she goes down a series of halls, and a few sets of stairs, before ending up in her own room. It was in the basement, where it was a bit cooler in temperature, the floor made of stone. Her room was rather plain, compared to the rest of the house, but that was how she preferred it. A thatched rug made of different raw materials lay in the center of the floor, and in the corner was a huge mound of straw and lain out on top were the pelts of different animals. This was her bed, as she absolutely refused to sleep in a 'normal' bed. A crate sat in one corner, and a few other boxes that she'd made herself were scattered everywhere too. A small table, set low to the ground, was covered in papers, along with a few pencils. Some of the papers had scribbles on them, and others were blank. This was covered in a thin sheet of cloth, so that it looked just like a lumpy table covered in a cloth. She didn't like it when people saw what she wrote...or drew... In one of the boxes held her many hand made clothing items. The crate held all sorts of different things, from sticks to skeletons of animals, to arrows for a bow. Such was her room, primal, but at the same time comfortable. A basin filled with water was in another corner, big enough for her to get into, and laying on the edge was a washcloth. The most weird thing about the room was the big gaping hole in the side of the wall, dug out about five feet deep and four feet wide. Covering the dirt was straw and more animals pelts, and planks of wood held the walls from collapsing. And up above was a large plank of wood, that if pushed aside would show that there was a hole up to the ground level. She would often move that and lay there, staring up at the stars at night, as the estate was set in a clearing of sorts due to how big the place was.<br/><br/>Closing the door behind herself, she strips of the clothing she was wearing, tossing the blood stained items aside. Climbing in to the basin, she washes the blood off of her skin, and out of her hair, so that soon she was blood free, her beautiful ivory skin once again spotless. Once she had finished, she gets out, and shakes herself off like a canine would, going to pick out clean clothing, settling on a simple brown leather dress with a small design on the edges. It was sleeveless, and the collar was made with colorful threads and beads. Covering her calves with fur 'leg warmers', she places matching ones on her forearms. Over her shoulders was a sort of shawl made out of the fur of a bunch of rabbits tied together. Lastly she fixes her hair, pulling it back a bit and keeping it out of her face with a piece of leather.<br/><br/>After all this, she leaves her room and heads back upstairs, her bare feet padding silently along. Feralupina was sure that Alexin was probably doing his own thing, she'd moved a bit fast due to the fact she was supremely hungry. So, as she waited, she dawdled along in the hallways, hands clasped behind her back as she gazes at the pointless images and paintings that were hanging on the walls. Why did they have to live in such a fancy place? It was pointless, but she knew that more than half of the others preferred life like this...It was rather pathetic in her mind, but that was just her own opinion.