Ravensblood Forest your life's a dimestore novel

I hope you don't mind Durnehviir hanging about, feel free to skip me.

She followed Constantine at a distance, with every intention of sneaking up on him when the opportunity presented itself. Head low and ears back, she maintained a smooth pace through the forest - weaving through the darkness between the dense evergreens, a silent huntress.

When the scent of fresh blood flooded her nostrils, however, Durnehviir's feathery ginger ears lifted and pressed forward. She stopped briefly to inhale the rich, metallic aroma, and twitched her nose curiously. It would not be Constantine who'd been injured; the russet Frostfur was far enough away from him to remain out of sight, but he would have remained within earshot. Instead, she'd found the woods to be eerily silent.

Resuming her stride, Durnehviir loped onto the scene to find her dark companion and the bloodied, broken body of a young male. Sidling up alongside Constantine and brushing her flank reassuringly against his, her pale eyes lingered on the beaten boy for a silent moment before she lifted her gaze to seek those of the Ravensblood leader. To him, she furrowed her brow in concern, her eyes pleading; we have to help him.