Haunted Wood no one hurts this pretty girl but her

Swift did not seem particularly keen on engaging his mother's stammering, and she fell silent after his advice that she tend to her own wounds. She hadn't thought much about them - her lip occasionally split open and wept, but a crusty scab formed quickly over it each time and the torn edges were healing. There was no smell, and she wasn't tired - ergo, no infection. So much could not be said for Swift.

"We'll get out of here." It was a stupid thing to say, because it wasn't definite. Certainly not for Swift. He wasn't eating, and the two girls were barley partway nourished by the squirrels and rats that Bazi managed to catch. For one horrifying second she considered cutting her losses - the sort of thought her own mother might have had in this situation. The notion's brief presence in her head gave a boost to the almost ever-present nausea, and the Grove queen sank down to her belly in an effort to stifle it. "If you're better tomorrow, I'll lead them away. You and your sister will have to go north and skirt back around." Her voice was thick and slow, like a sauce. As if planning would make it happen. "They must be getting tired by now, waiting for us like this." And where was the pack? Where was Scimitar? Had she pushed her mate too far this time?