Stavanger Bay Off the cliff she tumbled

She was led, almost stumbling a few times, senses gradually returning to the small creature as she leaned on the wolf. Why was she here, accepting help from a wolf? But it didn't matter, did it? Her illusions of grandeur for her species were nothing more than stories and culture from her childhood, things taken way out of proportion. This wolf was helping her, when it could have eaten her. 

Then there was water, and she was drinking ,easing her burning, parched, through. The dozens of small gashes on her side from her fall had been cleansed by the ocean, they were not at risk at the moment. She drank as greedily as the one was watching her, she did not notice this, however, caught in a feeling of surrealism. Atoll. That was her name. Finally, the coyote looked at her, really looked at the woman, taking her in. "Artemis. I am Artemis" she breathed, her throat raw. She looked at the bark, wondering if she were to eat it. Back at Atoll. "Thank you."