Fairspell Meadow she picked wild flowers

Still. She stood deadly still, as though not made of flesh, rather hardened snow like that of the ground's white cloak. Her body tensed, flashes of Storm deciding with a malicious surge to show themselves before her as if she had summoned them herself. But she hadn't, and she willed them away.

Dark blue eyes locked onto the orbs of the stranger as they turned and settled a silent stare onto her frozen form. Run, part of her mind screamed at her, a voice so strangled and pained that she winced at it herself, unaware that the other wolf may have seen her flinch. The other part of her did not care - could not care, for if she was to die then so be it.

It was normal for her mind to assume the worst, but the dove was not in any state to be seeking conversation, nor did she want it. She wanted to vanish, to disappear into the fog and become one with the earth and the wind so that she had to bear the tragedies of life no longer - but as the stranger took a step forward in her direction, her heart pound against her chest painfully, even stronger than before. She matched his approach with an anxious step backward, face only blank.

"No," The whisper fell from her lips, a single word that was always circling around her mind but now had the drive, the force, to release from her maw.