Duskfire Glacier trash to the curb

In the year following her departure from Teekon wilds, Foxglove had spent her time near a rubbish dump she had ran accross one day and decided not to leave such a good source for free food so soon. Many lazy and pointless months later, the owners of the place decided that they weren't quite happy with the vermin that were scavenging around the place. And, when poisoning them did not work (though Foxglove had watched, how some rats, foxes and cats died from internal bleeding), they used guns. And where there were guns, there Foxglove fled without a second look back.

In the months that followed days alternated between rather good ones and pretty bad ones. Junebell, whose mindset was more suited for the survival in the wilds, had fallen silent after one particularly violent episode of seizures. Ever since - for the first time in her life - Foxglove was all alone. Luckily for a wolf her size she did not need much food to live on, therefore she managed - always on the edge of famine - but managed. And on the day, when after weeks of solitude she finally caught sight of another living soul, she mournfully observed, how a mountain goat, who was doing far better than the lanky and lean predator, ran off.

A moment later the dappled she-wolf spotted a wolf coming her way and knowing well that she would not be able to outrun him, if he were to chase her, she remained, where she was.