Broken Antler Fen All Burned Away

The shadow found comfort in the fen. If it weren't for the fact that it sat on the edge of the wilds, she may have considered making a temporary home there. It seemed secluded and safe. Lucy felt as though she was not at risk of being caught in the brush and frosted moss that grew in the area. She had not yet experienced anything that would cause her to flee. The wisp of ink was not holding her breath, though; she knew better than to get her hopes up, for she had often found herself losing the things she cared for most. Regardless, it would make a suitable place for rest and a hunt later in the evening.

Lucy stepped lightly across frosted earth, her tail whisking from side to side. Small puffs of steam rose from her nose as she breathed. She stood out, an inky stretch of limbs against a beautiful winter landscape. Her cosmic blue eyes carefully picked over her surroundings. Were it not for the soft crying, Lucy would have passed the other wolf entirely. The length of her dark ears spun atop her crown and she slowly moved toward the dismal noise. Her head was low as she slipped through the brush and when she emerged on the other side, she felt as though someone had gripped her heart in an iron glove and squeezed.

There was another, shrouded in greys and whites, splashed in ebony, who appeared to be in a good deal of distress. The young Blackthorn watched for only a moment before she attempted to close some of the distance between herself and the stranger. With a quivering voice, she spoke up.

“Hey... it's alright. Do you need help?”