The Sentinels some used your na[m]e for glory, some used it for their gain

Wednesday grit her teeth; she did not know the correct way. The forest seemed to be a labyrinth, and it tested her patience so. If she were not given any hints, she would find her grave—

The one ear she had left moved forward. A sweet little voice, the sweetest she had ever heard, called in the most lovely of accents. Her heart moved to her throat as she thought of her lover, and how she might adore to hear this voice before bathing in the blood of the one who had it. With such a sweet little song such as that, Wednesday was certain the countess would be so pleased, and remain young forever! She was only so imaginative for Erz, who she hoped would be immortal, and who made Wednesday herself feel that way.

What luck. Luck was on her side. Wednesday plunged forward, then. She had her mark. And she was not wrong, was she? No. She would take the little girl and leave, quick as anything. Perhaps no one would know she was even there, should she get this done quickly enough. Wednesday thought she had spotted something in the distance, and saw the face, the most beautiful, vibrant face, and doggedly moved forward.

The thing spoke again, froze. But Wednesday had heard, even lengths away, and the small blip of a girl would grow bigger...

Wednesday could not stop now. She would need to cuff the girl, knock her out so that she would simply remain silent. The pretty girl would not know what hit her; she hoped no one else would, either. But the woods were a labyrinth; a dizzying maze, and the face she felt she saw was gone. Wednesday stopped abruptly, her face twisting and her eyes bulging in her frustration. Too big, the forest was. Too big.

Little girl, she breathed to the woods, her voice gravel, repugnant: I have been sent for you. You must come to me, or you will make the one that sent me very... what would strike a child, who understood nothing but happiness and did not know fear? Sad. Her muzzle pointed downward; signs of the child were present, but so too were signs of a wolf she did not wish to see. Wednesday was at full attention, now. It was unquestionable that someone else be near them, now, then. Tufts of fur that meant recent passing... Wednesday looked over her shoulder, the fear of life in her eyes. She would die here if she did not do this thing.

And so again she bolted forward, jaws seeking to grab anything near the earth and releasing them if it was not the skin of the she-cub. She felt she only had seconds. Seconds! She must use her final freedoms, before discovery. She must wreak havoc, must try for her love... Wednesday would keep this promise, the one promise she had made in her life. Her oath and her loyalty and her word, all for Erz.