The dark child had known very little other than her own company was the most reliable she'd ever found. She had spent far too much time outside of the wilds. So much had changed since she had left. Lucy wondered often if any of her family remained, or would remember her. She had remembered an awful fight with her mother. It had been the last time she had seen the woman who had birthed her. The memory drove a melancholy nail into her heart. The inky girl pressed forward, hoping to see if she could find Cypress or Rannoch. She hoped, more than this, that they would have missed her in her absence. Surely, they would not. She knew that it was not likely their lives would have paused at all. Rannoch was probably the leader of the forest by then.

The Blackthorn trailed the outside of the lake slowly. Her small paws stepped delicately against the bank. She did not dare disturb the peaceful waters. If she drew close enough, she could see her own dark reflection against the surface of the water. How strange it would be to have a life beneath the lake. She kept a watchful eye on her reflection and continued to trace the outer edge of the pool. It was quiet and Lucy felt as though she had reclaimed a strength inside of herself.

Sobs sounded over her head. The girl stopped immediately and held herself alertly. The length of her ears was stretched upward and sat intently atop her head. Her pale blue gaze scanned as quickly as she could until she locked them tightly on a lone figure that she did not recognize. She was not certain that she trusted another weeping stranger in the woods. Nevouku had been harmless enough, but she did not want to press her luck. She picked her way quietly toward him, hoping to see if he had company.

The stranger's apricot gaze did not take long to find her figure, though she had attempted to make herself smaller to prevent such a thing. He watched her and she returned the stare with a worrisome expression on her young face. Should she need to flee, Lucy knew that she could get away quickly enough. When his voice struck the air, she flinched, but held her ground with iron rod limbs that remained planted to the earth. He fumbled over his sentences, reminding her of Nevouku. Perhaps he was just as kindhearted as the other male.

The stranger seemed to stumble through his next few words before he became a stranger no more: Shale. The introduction hung on the air like a dense fog before Lucy took another step forward and peered at him with an anxious expression. “I'm Lucy,” she returned carefully. Her pale blue gaze danced over him, scrutinizing his figure and the state he appeared to carry on his shoulders. This Shale had tried to brush himself off as being 'okay' for the young girl. She was not so foolish.

“You did not look okay.”

It seemed as though the formality of her introduction had shattered whatever had remained of the grey-cloaked brute. His jaw hung, slack, and his eyes widened on her as if he had known her long before. Lucy felt threatened by this and was not sure how she was intended to react. A peculiar sort of sound was emitted from his slackened jowls, and the inky wisp recoiled away from him, fighting to put some distance between herself and his body. Though the young girl was not certain what she could have done wrong, she did not want to test this male. Lucy did not know what he was capable of.

Trembling, she lifted a paw up and flattened her ears to her skull. Immediately, she was thinking of escape plans. All she could imagine was that this brute would come to life and lunge for her, sinking his fangs into her tender flesh. The more she looked at his figure, the more her mind began to wander, and it was not long before she saw in Shale the same wolf who had scooped her from her home as a child and carried her away. Heart thrumming, the blue-eyed girl was frozen in fear.

The strange male took a few steps back, helping Lucy to feel moderately more at ease. At least she felt that she had a higher likelihood of escape if there was some space between them. They gawked at each other for a moment longer before the male dropped his skull and stammered out an apology. Oddly, this did nothing to soothe her ruffled feathers. The blue-eyed girl stared at him until he had managed to spill every last drop of his words before she clenched her jaw and turned her attention to the treeline where she could slip away without another word. Her dark pelt would allow her to hide herself away with ease.

Fixing him with fearful eyes, the ghoul frowned and shook her head. “I... uh... I'm sorry about that. Listen, I didn't pick my name,” she remarked to him, frown deepening. Truth be told, the girl scarcely remembered if it had been her actual parents who had given it to her, or if Rannoch's father had bestowed it upon her once she had entered his forest. She supposed that it didn't matter. One way or another, Lucy had become her.

The ghoul did not like what was happening. It was evident in her posture, the curling of her tail so that it tucked against her rear and between her hocks, and the splaying of her ears atop her crown. Fear was spreading through her like a wildfire and she had nothing to calm it. Watching the brute before her unfurl himself into a mess of hysterics was troubling, but she was too daunted to run. Her mind seemed to caterwaul inside of her, begging her to depart from the scene before she was trapped, but before she could listen the male seemed to have found his own legs. The slate-colored brute stumbled over an apology before he attempted to reason with her, but it seemed that he could not stomach the conversation. Just as soon as he had uttered his words, he was carried away.

Lucy watched with a wary expression as the male departed. She wanted to make sure that he was gone before she moved; her limbs would not allow her to turn without knowing she would be safe. Shale vanished soon enough, though, and left the shadow of a girl to sit with her thoughts and her fears once more. Finding her limbs, the ghoul turned from the scene and scoured the brush for a place to depart. She disappeared into the shadows without a trace of having been there. Her own dread still clung to her like death, but she was safe once more.