The huntress had never stopped believing, she had merely waited for the next to rise. But in the meantime she didn't see why she couldn't go back and see what was left. She regretted that a little now, that foolishness. Like it wouldn't be like walking into a graveyard. The only difference it seemed was that there were no graves. No, instead of graves there was just long settled ash. The camp at one of the smaller plateaus on the mountain side was too out of the way for travelers to go skulking around. It had been peaceful, they had been at rest, until her, until she had come and kicked up all these old ashes. She had no right to disturb their peace, and all this dust and old ashes were making her cry old tears anyway.