She walked as far from home as she dared to; only making it just past Orion before she slowed down significantly. It wasn't that she didn't want Attikias's help-- it's that she wanted to get her mind off everything that was going on.

Anastasia felt, for the first time, like she didn't know her father. She had only just realised that, although she'd known him for her whole life, he had been around much longer than her. He'd seen more. He had more of a personality than she did, and that scared her in some inexplicable way.

A part of her was furious. Burning bit by bit, the fire growing hotter each time the thought of Attikias or Shiloh crossed her mind, but it was a numb sort of pain. A part of her was distraught, she wanted to cry-- how many things had she missed out on? How many people had died while she was growing up, and how many people could she have helped?

Her fingers were fidgeting. She couldn't stand the thought of it-- bile rose in her throat. Anastasia felt horribly helpless-- she had to try and do something.

The hybrid slowed to a stop in the middle of the tunnel, tail flicking. Without thinking about it, she lifted a hand and outstretched her fingers towards pebbles lining the cave floor. There was a spark, a breath, and a burst of magic-- warm and tingling like needles pressing against her palm.

A purplish glint lurched across the tones, lightly tossing them across the ground.

Anastasia flicked her ear, a little stunned, her hand still extended. One foot went out to nudge the budged rocks; a little hesitantly so. The rocks, of course, did nothing, for they were rocks.

A frown crossed her face. She never quite thought of herself as someone very good at magic-- she knew one of her siblings might have been --but the thought was entertaining enough. She thought of herself casting all sorts of spells to help people throughout the caves, creating intricate, magical barriers to protect people from harm.

Granted, that was a long ways away.

Her fingers curled carefully, still watching one of the pebbles she'd moved across the floor. There was that sensation again-- warmth in her hand and needles pricking against her knuckles --as the pebble gently lifted a few feet off the ground, enveloped in a pink glow.

Anastasia, mouth twisting, swiped her hand. The rock followed in quick succession; lurching to her left and rattling against the wall to the ground.

It felt... good. It felt powerful. Anne felt... less useless.

What else could she do? Anastasia's head was so full of possibilities for once rather than the adverse-- her father, her friend, her siblings --and she felt as though she were full of buzzing bugs rattling around inside her skull.

Maybe she could set something on fire! Maybe she could make water? Maybe she could even make light, or sprout new flowers. It seemed so awfully endless and inspiring.

Soon enough, of course, she was thinking of Attikias again. Not in a mournful way, at least-- now she was thinking about how she could impress him. She wanted to show him that she wasn't a weak child anymore; she was like her siblings, who could get hurt and bounce back and fend for themselves.

Anastasia's nose crinkled. She could catch some prey, surely? She could try. She could.. at least throw rocks at something and carry it back with magic. Maybe she could hide herself with magic until something showed up?

She looked at her hand, feeling a little more hesitant this time.

A burst of magic.

At first, Anne was unsure if-- well, anything had happened at all. Instinct led her foreward, and has she did, her footsteps were almost silent. Even the gentle sound of skin-on-stone didn't reach her ears, and Anastasia relied mostly on her hearing these days.

She shifted on the spot, and quietly, she kept going forward, keeping to the slight dark that shrouded her against the wall.

A deer.

Well, a doe. She had a slender face and thick wool coating her body like a sheep. She hadn't noticed Anastasia-- due in part to the silence of her feet, and the hybrid sticking to the dark. She had to bring it back. She had to supply this source of resources to her family-- her heart ached for it, to see the reaction of Attikias when she hunted something herself.