Honeyed Pasture Cut off his head immediately, and stick it on a pike!

It was strange, she thought, almost absentmindedly as she strode through the grasslands, her eyes fixed on somewhere on the horizon that no one else could see. It was strange, that even after a year and some more from leaving her natal pack to make a life for herself, to wander and explore, to find a loving partner, she still somehow managed to achieve none of it. Chase knew it wasn't going to be easy - she wasn't the ideal damsel in distress, she wasn't outgoing or talkative, she wasn't conventionally pretty, she was nothing that boys liked, or girls, for that matter - but somehow, somewhere in her mind, she'd got it in her head that one day, the right one would come.

Well, now she was going to call complete and utter bullshit on 'the right one'. Mother had lied, shit like that didn't exist in this godforsaken world. But it was alright, it was all good - sort of - being a loner in the middle of summer wasn't too bad. Chase ignored the nagging feeling in her chest and the ever insistent voice that spoke in her mind, telling her that winter was coming and that she'd better find a place to lay low till it was over. I've got time, she insisted to herself everytime and shrugged it off. If only time was as easy to shrug off.

Someone's nearby. Snap out of it. Chase blinked, eyes clearing as she withdrew from the daydream she'd been occupied in just a moment ago. Turning slightly to the right, she narrowed her eyes, black nostrils twitching warily and took a few steps closer, approaching cautiously from sideways and slightly behind, her heart thudding erratically in her chest. Chase wasn't good dealing with strangers - especially random injured sorta-good-looking males (she couldn't quite catch a look at his face) - and she knew she should probably turn away and go, injured wolves were the worst - from her experience, they were usually aggressive and volatile, more than usual.

But as always, curiousity and compassion got in the way and she couldn't help but chuff softly, her countenance guarded, eyes wary but still holding a familiar gleam. "Um...are you okay?" she asked in her lilting English accent. Almost immediately, she corrected herself, "I mean, obviously you're not, but, um, do you want any help or anything?" Chase stood there, awkward and uncomfortable for a moment before taking a step back and blurting out an apology, "I'm sorry!"

Oh, how she longed for the ground to open up and swallow her now.