Bramblepoint the moon set early in tonight

listlessly, she starred at the creek as it flooded by, ever eager to get somewhere. she was a ways apart from Rannoch and his band, alone, with the turmoil that flared and boiled within her chest. she only wanted to go home. to see her family, her loving family, and be safe in their borders. but she could not- could not bear to see the same fear on their faces as she had seen on Rannoch's, when he had first beheld her face. it was swollen now, crusted with scabs and filthy. her pelt was filthy too, for no longer could she wash herself without a tongue, and she could not muster the energy to enter the stream.

always did she fear, at those times when she felt. she was lucky, in a way. the bleeding in her maw had clotted, and her stub of a tongue healed quickly. it was not completely gone, and while she could no longer form coherent words, she could still perform life's basic functions. gingerly, she drank, at times, but she did not eat. she could not bring herself too, both for the physical pain of it and the state of mind that did not allow her to partake in food when terror plagued her so.