Redhawk Caldera Lost boys go to Neverland

While there were people dying from hunger, fights and stupid accidents, there was Hedda, who had been dying for months but hadn't been able to reach the end quite yet. At first she had relied on her master - believed that the only reason she was still alive, was the fact that she had one last purpose to fulfill - but now she had given up on this belief entirely. Keeping on living had become an increasingly hard burden for the old hag. Especially now, when the food was scarce. 

With desperation there comes courage and after many days of fruitless wandering around the unclaimed areas, she had come to a conclusion that she was more likely to find food, or scraps at least, where there people lived. And one pack had been particularly close and had seemed to her rather unguarded during the days she had spent lurking at a safe distance from the borders, watching. On the day she decided to take action, she knew very well that this could end badly for her. Trespassing was a crime punishable by death, but she couldn't care less about these rules now. It would be death either way - with a full stomach or being shred to pieces.

And when you thought about that last option... her viking ancestors would be proud. She would die in a battle. Hedda cackled at this thought, having given up on those fools for years and yet there was part of her that looked forward to an end like this. Wasn't it always more honorable to die trying than to give up? The old wolf did not get very far past the borders, for she had to stop and cough - blood spilled from the corners of her mouth and, before moving on, she spent a moment to look at it thoughtfully. How much longer? There was probably only one way to find out. She proceeded.