Every inch of her ached in a sort of pain that she had never felt. It had taken her well over a week to scramble her way from the plains to the edges of a pack that was entirely unfamiliar to her. Still, the ghoul was far too injured to care much about what might befall her there. The shadow was hungry and rawboned, like a moving specter across the land, but not living. Once, more than a year before, she had been drawn to the edges of another pack in her desperation. She would have liked to have stayed with them, but circumstance was difficult to judge, and the world had a very peculiar way of working its spell.

Pulling herself to the edge of the pack, she peered at it with nerve-wracked eyes and a shudder that passed down her jutting spine. Lucy tried to call out to someone, but her voice only emitted a strange sort of gurgle. Frustrated with her own ineptitude, the ghoul whimpered sadly and waited to see if someone should pass the edge where she sat.

The pale figure of another wolf approached her. For a moment, Lucy thought it to be Skwol and her heart skipped inside of her. When he drew closer, she noted the blue of his gaze and she grew disappointed in the idea that her previous companion had vanished from sight. She had left him behind and he had moved on – fittingly – to something better. It did not prevent the hurt from creeping up inside of her. When her mind had finally realized that she was staring at an unknown male figure, she cringed softly and lowered her head as close as she could to the earth. The shadow's tail remained tucked tightly between her hocks, and her gaze was averted from his own. Lucy could not have appeared any more willing to submit. Then again, her limbs did not seem as though they were capable of holding up her dark frame.

The male introduced himself as Dune and she finally allowed her gaze to settle on his face. She could note that he did not seem at all aggressive, but neither had the wolf on the plains. The pallid sentry had asked her for a name and she shook violently before parting her lips to answer. “Lucy,” the young girl croaked. She then looked away from him with shame on her face and she found an anger inside of herself for her own weakness. It was not likely that these wolves would accept her.

Hurt?

The only indication of an answer was a shaky bob of her head. A doleful fluttering of her eyelashes brought her to the point of blackout, but she held her ground just long enough to hear his encouragement to look strong. If that was the requirement, she would surely fail. The pale man of few words – Dune – seemed to fade in and out of her focus. One moment, he was the small red form of Indra, and another moment turned him back into himself.

Another white figure sauntered toward them with authority in his step and a glint in his gaze. Her paranoia made her nervous, turning his gaze into one of cold judgment over anything else. The shadow tried to take Dune's words to heart. She bowed her skull to the scarred wolf, averting her eyes to the left – away from the two of them. Once she lifted it, she held her head as well as she could to appear capable. Dune turned into Indra again, and she was standing on the edges of the Duskvale claim. Charon turned to Saena and the glint in the blue of his eyes appeared to her in the form of burning beryl. She could not tell the Moonspear wolves and the Duskvale wolves from each other; her desperation had carried her to join only two, if Charon would have her. The shadow felt herself sway a bit on her limbs and her hocks throbbed, sending a jolt of pain through her frame that brought her back to her present company and reality.

“My name's Lucy. Here for a home, if you'll take me,” the ghoul answered their Alpha with a gritted jaw. The stub of her tail was tucked tightly to her rear and she could feel it through her spine. “I'm not all useless. Sneaky as a fox, quick as a hare,” she tried to bolster herself.

The larger male did not seem as though he was impressed with the ghoul. Lucy would have been lying if she had stated that she didn’t feel the sting of his words. She still felt like the same lost little girl who had wandered too close to the Duskvale territory and had begged for a home instead. The shadow had grown, but her insecurities still bled like raw wounds. So, when she was instructed to improve her pitch, the dark girl winced softly and nodded her head. Self-depreciation had always been an easier strength to land on for her. Dune remained silent while the scarred male eyed her with a deep blue that reminded Lucy of the ocean. The grin he provided did little to ease her nerves.
 
A few questions followed his remark on pitch and she drew her ears up to meet them. He asked why she had wanted to join Moonspear, which she could only assume was the name of his pack. Then, he wanted to know if she could hunt. Not sure how to respond to his first question, Lucy nodded her head in an attempt at some confidence. “I can hunt small game well. Rabbits, otters, the sort,” she assured him. There was an attempt at a small smile on the corner of her lip that vanished as soon as it had brushed her face.
 
“And… Moonspear? I s-suppose because it’s close to home.”
 
Neverwinter Forest had been more of a home to the ink hound than the Caldera had been, so she was not lying, but she was not sure she had very much fondness left for the forest pack. The ghoul then fixed Charon with eyes that were trained to his neck; she did not wish to challenge his temper by breaking the appropriate submissive state of her body. Lucy was fearful of him and even of the kinder wolf – Dune – who sat to the side. She knew that she would need to increase her chances of acceptance. She was no longer the broken whelp who had washed inland and found a home by fear alone. Lucy needed the support of a pack and she had not been picky about which.
 
“Really, your pack smells strong. I thought I needed my best chance to survive; I will help – in any way you see fit – to make sure Moonspear stays strong.”

The Alpha seemed as though he were a serious fellow, and the same was easily said for his pale companion. While this caused a flare of uneasiness in her, the dark girl gritted her teeth against the stern nature of their leader and bowed her head a little further. She was naturally and unassuming little thing, but she willed herself to appear more so. Lucy remained that way until he inquired about the pack she had considered home.
 
It would make sense that Redhawk Caldera would be the first he would mention, but she sniped him with a sharp pair of blue eyes before she looked away and breathed deeply. The last one hadn’t asked her for her history; Duskvale had only wanted to know that she could hold her own. The inky young thing shook her head in response and then responded with, “no, the forest, but it does not stand anymore and those who were in it are now long gone.” She knew; Lucy had searched the grounds for signs of stragglers when she had returned to the wilds and had found nothing. Their scents had long since faded away from the territory.
 
Then, he presented her with a hypothetical question and she did not like the sound of it. She was bruised and beaten, missing her tail, and raped until she had bled. Lucy was still caked in her own blood and his spilled seed, and she was being asked if she would hold true when the winter months had left them. It struck her as a calculating inquiry as opposed to one of care. That was all for the best; she did not want those around her to care.
 
“Once the winter has faded, I will be here.”

It seemed that her vow was taken well enough, and the large scarred wolf accepted her into his home. At the mention of food and drink, she felt how thin and broken her body was. The shadow thought it was a surprise that Charon would even allow her into his claim with how she must have appeared. Something had granted her a modicum of luck and she was taking it without question. Moonspear was her new life and she was willing to stay there as long as she could to regain her strength and to repay her debts to the pallid brute who ruled over them. Charon mentioned that she would need a medic to look at her, and she nodded her head softly in agreement. “Thank you,” the ghoul muttered with a glance away from the Alpha. With that, she followed him wherever he might lead and kept herself glued close to his side.