Chimera Fields αστροφεγγιά

Jenabbi's flight from the mountains went on for several days, and ended abruptly when she heard a mournful racket to her left.

She was exhausted. There'd been precious little to eat, and she'd expended energy running from all manner of predators that suddenly felt they could take on an adult moose, in light of the famine. She was soft to their cause, but she wanted much more to live. So she had not stopped to be eaten, thank you very much. She'd trekked onward until her thin legs ached and her head spun in a fog of hunger and lethargy.

And then, the mournful racket. It jarred her first with it's loudness, then with it's nearness, and then with the awful sound of it. And then her heart got to aching as she imagined the pained, lonely eyes of whatever manner of creature had made the noise.

A coyote, her brain helpfully provided, and Jenabbi let out a little warble of pity.

"Little coyote," she called into the trees, her ears flicking as she sought out the other animal. "Do you need any help?"