Lost Creek Hollow He doesn't know when to give up

Harlyn prayed then that the gods give Shikoba strength: to walk these few dozen yards, to push through her pain, to live in general. She could not bear the thought of losing one of her own, not now when they had so few left. And particularly not one that had proven themselves to be such an asset to the pack. Her children adored the gamma, and she herself had taken quite a liking to her. She prayed that this one would not come to the same fate as Ilya, even though she had always had complete control of that.

It seemed to take ages, but finally Harlyn came upon a place she deemed suitable for housing her gamma for the time being. It wasn't much of a shelter in truth - just a tree with a thicker than average trunk, sprawling branches, and a thick patch of shrubbery stretched out across its roots. She moved Shikoba beneath these shrubs until her sturdy frame was nestled comfortably in the shadows of the fronds. A cave would have been better; the alpha's own den better still. But there was no time to take her there, and Harlyn had no desire to chance her strength wearing out.

"You'll be safe here," the druid assured her, glancing about before leaning in to give the woman a comforting nudge, "I will be back shortly. Rest." With that, Harlyn turned and took off into the wood.