Firefly Glen Run, rabbit, run

Shrike was on the warpath. 

It had been three days now since Allure had come home, and she came home every night. It was unusual and therefore unnerving for her to be gone, and Shrike could not sleep during that time. His nerves were on end and he was filled with constant worry. Though he trusted Allure, he could not help but dread that some larger, darker force had taken her away, so he continued to scout the areas just beyond the borders, but found no trace of her. Normally, Allure was reasonably easy to find- her tracks could always be found leading in or out of the pack, but now there was no sign of her. Had she intended to be gone for more than a night, she would have told him. This was not right; something was incredibly wrong. 

He did not want to cause a panic within the pack, but had let every pack member known- as calmly as possible- that he had not seen Allure in three days. Nor had they. Concern had begun to grow, and he could see the surprise in the eyes of the other wolves when he was the one to say he had not seen Allure. It seemed to be fairly common knowledge that Allure and Shrike were constant companions...And for her to disappear from him was an immense concern. He asked all to be on watch and to let him know as soon as she returned. He didn't want to be paranoid or overbearing, but something told Shrike that this was all wrong. 

His howls went unanswered. He'd found no trace of Allure- until he finally spotted it. The tuft of fur was barely recognizable in the snow, but it was black with a hint of white. He moved toward it quickly and lowered his head, to catch Allure's scent, and with dread, another scent. With one feeble paw, he scraped the snow away from the ground to see the darkened splotches he dreaded. Blood. Tilting his head back he howled again, a long, sorrowful sound, hoping she might hear it, or that whatever had attacked her heard his warning.