Greatwater Lake When remembering a life lost

* whistles and shoves Olive back in*

The world became a blur of dark fur and sharp noises. How many times would she had to see her husband this way, with hooves coming down upon his skull or hellhound ripping at his very being?! Once was too many. Twice was too many.  No. No. No. That was not how it happened. This was not how THIS ends. For the most part Olive conceded herself and her future to the whims of the universe [rollin’ with the punches, her father had called it], but this outcome would not do and the frenzied woman deigned to fight it tooth and nail.

There was one, no two— three! four! Four wolves launching themselves upon her dark night. In this moment there was only movement, but the in next moment there would be blood spilled; so Olive had to move fast. Adrenaline trilled through her veins as she launched herself at the amassment of struggling, gnashing wolves. She aimed herself so that her body might block any imminent attack to Dakarai’s exposed throat and then proceeded to throw her small body about, jerking and thrashing, snarling and snapping at anything, everything, acting as if she was crazed woman fighting an invisible demon! Her intention was not to harm [for the druid never could], but to cause enough confusion to give Dakarai a second to recoup and rally, to give him but half a moment to decide their next move - whether is was to fight, submit or flee. She was his ally in this an all things, including this, and would not leave him.