Moonspear Crooked spoons

@Charon or @Amekaze  

The slope was growing steeper, but with each step she took the scent of the pack border grew stronger. Each step brought her close to the end of her misery, the end of hunger and loneliness. Shandra was not a creature capable of survival on her own, as the weeks prior had so obviously illustrated. Another week and she would be dead. It was a certainty that this pack would become her home -- if they did not accept her initially, she would simply convince them using any means necessary. 

her breath came in long, exaggerated huffs, weakened limbs dragging her the last few steps leading up to the borderline. Here she paused, looking at her paws and drawing oxygen back into her lungs. When she had gained enough breath to sing, the cinnamon and sugar she-wolf threw her muzzle towards the emanating silver light of the moon and twinkling stars. She sang her heart out.