"Wandering is a way to find things, after all." It's all she had these days- or so she suspected back in the world she was a part of. No home to return to, just what she could gather and go in to London itself. Whatever it could hold for her.

She could keep up with the foxes, careful of the brush they were being brought through. Deeper in, but nothing that was so close together that it seemed darker; if anything it seemed brighter, the further they followed.

... Were a few mushrooms glowing from their spots on tree trunks? Curious.

"Do you think we ought to bring a few of those back with us?"