Blackfeather Woods spirit cold

"Oh, it's"—she broke off, not quite sure how to answer that question—"It's still there, but my dad... he died. A big loud bird broke the sky and then he was bleeding and..." Muriel trailed off, not sure really where to go from there. "I can't do it on my own." Wolves were pack animals, after all, and Muriel did not stray from that natural instinct. She needed to be around others. This lonesome life was not for her. Not one little bit.

The girl shifted awkwardly back and forth on her feet, yellow green eyes boring holes into the ground. She supposed that it could have been worse. She could have been attacked on sight, and yet she hadn't been. This wolf seemed to at least be willing to hear her case. "Can I stay? Please?"