Fox's Glade the shame of your nakedness be revealed

rolling to see if she gets any food: 5

finally, as the light began to wane and a brisk chill sank in to her trembling body, hosannah sojourned through a foreign glade. she knew that just beyond this would be something familiar - perhaps the meadow, perhaps the mountains themselves - and she was close to her old haunt. whatever grandeur once existed here among the trees and the ferns, it was gone now. there was darkness, but she was unafraid of it. hosannah's lethargy was a new thing that unnerved her, or it would have if she could fathom the strangeness of this evening. she was tired from the great toils of her path, and thought, should i stop now to rest, i doubt i will wake again.

perhaps she was being melodramatic. a wolf could subsist on nothingness for quite some time, after all. she was hardy like the others - smaller, but still strong - and her faith was all she thought she needed. but as she sank to a halt next to a copse of naked trees, breathing deeply the aroma of the forest, something shifted in the dark. movement shot from the corner of her vision, and she reacted a moment later, her reaction dulled by her hunger yet instinctual and aggressive.

she trails after the figment for some time and emerges from the other side of the brambles, spying the empty space of the meadow — but there is nothing there. no bird, no sleep-deprived fawn, not even a firefly to light her way. sadly, she casts her head back and looses a strained howl, thin and whistling, with the hope that someone from the blackfoot will hear her. they are still a day's treck away, but now they will know she has not abandoned them.