Stavanger Bay Listen to Your Heart

All the smoke and ash had yet to clear from her lungs. It made her feel ill, and the day after the fire yielded little improvement for the young wolf. She had cleaned herself as best she could, but still felt miserable. The world as she knew it had been turned upside down. Ingram, luckily, had slipped off before the fire - that much Muses was certain of. She could only hope that the youth whom she cared for so deeply found his way to a place where he felt as though he truly belonged. Although he was a surly little fellow, she did not even once think that he had despised her, and whether or not she was correct in her assumption, she chose to remain blissfully ignorant.

Donnelaith and it's towering trees had not been nearly as lucky. Many parts of the forest had burned to the ground, although some trees were so tall and so thick that their outer shells had merely been scarred, and they remained standing upright and proud. It had not been utterly decimated, but those who remained of the former pack would not return. This was especially true given that their young leader, sweet Deirdre, could be found nowhere. Surely, no one wanted to insist that the worst had happened, yet with grave hearts, it seemed as though everyone had accepted that she would not return.

Foolishly, Muses clung to the smallest thread of hope that it was not true. She wandered from @Doe's side, stubbornly patrolling the sullen shores, her paws dragging through the cold waters of the tide. Up and down the bay she looked, out into the sea, and into adjacent forests. Still, there was no sign of her beloved friend. The stress from all the recent events was overwhelming. Her supply of milk had rapidly begun to deplete, to the point where she feared she would no longer be able to help raise the young as a wet nurse.

Frustrated, exhausted, and otherwise emotionally drained, the pale wolf, her fur still ashy and singed, curled up on the beach, resting her chin on her forepaws as she stared out into the dreary sea.