Night turned to day as Amara ran east across the land.  She was fortunate, and only had to sneak by two more groups of humans as she trekked.  Before too long, the smell and sounds of moving water danced in the air, a river, and maybe only a mile away.  Amara sighed and wiped her brow.  A river means more people, more animals, and more work to remain unnoticed.  However, she had been running for most of the night, hasn't fed in a week, and although she was immortal, could use a quick rest while the land was silent.  Looking around, there didn't seem to be a good cave to take shelter in, so she put on her leather fingerless gloves, made sure her boots were on tight, and used her claws to help make her way about twelve feet up a large tree.  Finding a solid branch to sit on, she straddled it and leaned back against the steady trunk of the tree.  The silver dagger she carried tucked inside her leather jacket felt comforting as she let her eyes rest, a trinket stolen from the monsters she thought she knew, but a weapon she knew how to handle, as seen by the bloodstains on the wooden hilt.