The shadow moved among the bison with a low skull and a few light steps, scarcely leaving a trail of where she had come from. The scent of the large prey animal was too heavy to discern hers or anyone else. They did not see her as a suitable threat, and so they meandered about, digging through the snow in search of specks of green that would not show for several weeks. Lucy watched a few of them, hunger in her gaze, but continued on her trek. Even the young girl knew better than to try her luck on her own. She glanced behind her once to see if there was anyone near – namely Skwol – but found that she was only surrounded by bison.

Through the plain and toward the knoll, Lucy wandered until the bison became sparse and she stood out against the cold backdrop. She, too, found the marmot trail and began to follow it with piqued interest and hunger in her belly. It was not until she had nearly found the source that she saw another figure, cloaked in gunmetal and peering intently with dull yellow eyes. The ghoul stopped and froze in her steps; her pale blue gaze drifted toward him and wondered if he had seen her yet.

He sees her, and for a moment she stands in a peculiar in-between state of instinct to flee and crippling fear. With wide eyes, she takes a tentative step toward him and draws in a scent. Something on him was almost alluring, but she had never smelled it before. The aroma brought her limbs to loosen their grip on the earth and her ears to remain erect, facing forward and alert. Her shadowy figure scurried forward a few more paces before stopping again and watching his place with one paw up, eyes unblinking. The ghoul was not certain that she should have been in that location, but also knew that she had nowhere else to go. Her time back in the wilds had not brought her misfortune, and she was feeling as though testing her luck was a safe bet.

“Any luck?” she asked him in a tentative yip. As if to elaborate on what she meant, Lucy pointed to the marmot hole with her muzzle and then fixed him with a curious yet fearful stare. Her voice had been quiet enough to not startle his meal, but loud enough that it should have reached him. All it would take was a simple nod or shake of his skull for her to know, but the dark girl drew her tongue along her mouth hungrily. She had gone far too long without eating, but his post seemed as though it would provide them with a chance to profit and the hopes of living another day.

The faded yellow of his eyes struck her and she felt her heart race before he looked back to the hole with a disappointing shake of his head. The dark girl lowered her head toward the earth and sniffed, noting that the prey was there, but had not yet been lured from its hiding hole. She felt foolish for sticking around if he was hunting on his own, but when she caught sight of his gesture for her to move, Lucy accepted it as a chance to feed and gladly accepted the instruction.

With a flagging of her tail, the slender creature moved to the designated location and looked at him with wide, expectant eyes. Her limbs were stiff in preparation, having accepted the man as a means to get food and perhaps a form of company for a short while. The ghoul was not determined to stay long, but she had gone a short while without eating and thought the experience a pleasant chance of luck.

She did not even see him.

Before the dark shadow knew better, his limbs were crashing against her back and his weight was upon her. She swung her head to and fro to try and bite against him, but there was nothing that could stop the fiend from taking what he wanted. The ghoul wanted to scream – to run – but her limbs had been crumpled beneath her and the burning of his body against her own was causing her to come close to blacking out. With a bristling coat and a violent swing of her neck, Lucy attempted to bite into his flesh and set herself free. Unfortunately for the dark girl, she had never been intended to be set free.

His movements in reaction to her own had caused her to stumble forward and her skull to crack against the earth. The gunmetal figure arched himself over her back and then took what he desired. He buried himself in her and only began to pull away when he had finished. The dark young Blackthorn whimpered against the touch of his thick coat against hers. The back of her bled, but she did nothing to stop it. Lucy was sprawled against the frigid touch of snow and cold earth beneath it. She waited to see if he would desire to take her life.

Ravaged and broken, the ghoul remained where he had violated her – a crumpled and heaving mess – all through the night and well into the next day. She was not bothered by another soul. When she did finally rise, her back legs were crusted with her own blood. Each step she took away from the scene of her crime was a step that was filled with pain and misery. Lucy could not cry; she trekked further out from the plains until she found a quiet glade where she curled and slept for two more days. The thought of waking did not seem to cross her mind. The ghoul did imagine that she would escape into a quiet death while she slept. The disappointment of waking again only doubled her grief.