Wolf RPG

the dog was doing poorly.
she huddled now in the shelter offered by a few fortunately placed boulders, half-drenched and hungry. the hunger was not new, but the cold wet was and sunk into her bones, painfully. she deserved it, surely, but could not think of retribution for her wrongs now, not when her mind was clouded by grief and pain.

she shifted her tiny weight across the rock, gaze focused fixedly on the little gap in the rocks. perhaps something would emerge, to sate her hunger, for she could not think of moving just then; not back into the wet and the wind.

can we have this dated to late at night on 3/28? I want them to arrive at Broken Boulder today (3/30)

Alarian had wandered farther than he intended from his pack; he would have to hurry to return, he knew. The wind did little to deter his travels, though it was less convenient when everything got wet. He trudged along anyway, half-heartedly tracking prey scents where he could find them.
The boy had just found success with one such endeavor when he scented something else-- something familiar. His hackles rose a bit, more from apprehension than anything. Dog. Ali hadn't met a dog in a long time, but his last experiences were still fresh in his mind. It was easy to get carried away for a moment. In the next second, though, he calmed himself and his pelt smoothed; he realized he had dropped the skinny hare he had been clutching and promptly scooped it up again. Generous as he often was, the boy didn't want to risk his meal being stolen. He was fairly hungry, actually.
The young Governor moved toward the scent cautiously, aware he was far from the safety of his home now. The dog didn't come into view until he had taken several steps forward. She was huddled within the scant safety offered by boulders stacked against each other; small and drenched, obviously not a threat. He dropped his kill where he stood and took a couple steps forward, chuffing softly. Whoever she was, she didn't appear to be in good shape.

RIP Poppy

Alarian