Greatwater Lake some women are lost in the fire, some women are built from it

Her heart thudded uneasily as she faced down the larger wolf. She shouldn't be doing this, she knew - what would she even say to her family when she got back with a child in tow? This was senseless, unnecessary, dangerous. Atoll knew all that very well, but there was an ache in her chest that would not be denied, and before her laid the very thing she was sure could release the painful pressure.

And then there was a scent on the wind, the thud of paws, a strong voice -

"Skellige," the woman breathed, eyes wide as her king came to champion her cause. For the moment, all other hurts were forgotten and she simply gazed at her master. The little woman's heart was flooded with adoration, and she stood in awe of his power, his greatness. And then, when it felt as though her heart could take no more joy, he appeared, Szymon, her love, her Chosen One! They both stood before her, strong like the sentinels of Donnelaith, unmovable as the arms of stone that embraced their home, and with eyes as cold and savage as the sea.

Her brother and her love stood as gaurdians above her, and Atoll - and Doe had never felt so moved.

The dark child ran, and Atoll thought nothing of chasing right after her. The girl's tormentor would be no match for her own, and Doe would be much more use to the girl than to her packmates.