Blackfeather Woods do not enter, like, seriously.

Hecate murmured a quick inaudible prayer to the fallen wolf before returning her focus towards Sister Nemesis. She seemed to miss the Dark Queen a lot, Hecate thought. 

 Tilting her head towards the she-wolf, she thought for a moment, her blue eyes flickering. "Would thy know of how many wolves are in this Brotherhood?", she asked after a moment. The question could also answer if she would bump into other wolves during her time here. Where there more hunters or healers? She wondered, but didn't ask. She was taught that words were precious things that were not to be wasted. And now it had become quite a habit she didn't really want to lose.

 Her limbs felt as if they were being burnt, and Hecate carefully tried not to injure them anymore. She shifted her pose so she rested on the less wounded limbs, as she awaited the answer.