Grayson left without another word, and Sonora couldn't help but move to the door to watch him disappear into the darkness. She felt like the worst person in the world, and for the first time in her career as an FBI agent, she hated her job. Whether Grayson allowed her to meet the rest of his pack or not, these were her people, and what she was doing, gathering intel on them for the government...it made her feel like a traitor. Her wolf snarled and snapped irritably, and it brought her back to herself.<br/><br/>Stepping out of the cabin, she drew a deep breath of crisp night air. Grayson's scent was still all over the place, but it had already begun to fade, and she stepped down off the small porch and went around the side, where the woodpile was stacked under a lean-to. In the darkness, she stripped out of her clothes, shivering a little as the cold night air touched her skin. With a thought, she released the wolf that was pawing to get out, and the pale blond wolf stepped out into the moonlight. She shook herself, the breeze ruffling the fur on her back, and she lifted her nose into the air, drawing in the scents around her. Her muzzle opened, and her tongue lolled as she tasted the air, and then she was off.<br/><br/>The smallish blond wolf was a pale streak of moonlight in the darkness, her feet barely touching the ground as she shot into the trees. It felt so good to run, to feel the wind in her fur and scent the crushed pine beneath her paws. She ran until her lungs burned, zigzagging through the trees and scrambling under bushes just for the hell of it. Once, she frightened a family of rabbits, and although she longed to hunt, she was careful to keep her hunting instinct under control. Soon enough, she scented the crisp, clean scent of water, and not a moment later, she could hear it. Slowing as she neared the edge of the forest, Sonora peered out of the trees, her sides heaving as she panted heavily. She sniffed, trying to detect any scents that may warn her of other shifters, but there was nothing there that shouldn't be. Thirst won out over caution, after a few minutes, and she jogged out from under the shelter of the trees.<br/><br/>In the moonlight, her blond coat looked nearly white, and she cocked her head to one side as she stared down at her rippling reflection. Although she couldn't see herself very clearly due to the moving water, she knew that her eyes were the warm amber of rich honey, and she had darker blond markings on the tips of her ears and around her eyes and muzzle. Before she drank, she tipped her head back and stared up at the moon, wondering just how long she had been running for. On an impulse she did not quite understand, she howled, the high, keening note filling the air and echoing into the night sky. When the last note had faded, she paused to listen, then slowly lowered her head to drink at the side of the river she was not to cross.