Blacktail Deer Plateau I speak for the dead

She seemed to grapple with herself - Grayday could only guess at what her face might look like. If he'd been able to see it, things might've been different. But he was blind to all but the brightest of lights these days, and Mara's struggle went on largely unnoticed by the sterling male. His ears slicked back when she spoke, and then pressed forward in firm assertion.

"There are healers here already, but thank you," the male demured, hinting at the ending of their conversation. He wondered if she would ask for succor - he'd offered it to the first two Easthollow wolves that'd come by, but he had no deep, abiding love for Mara. Standing before her right then, he could do little to remember her face. Perhaps all faces would slip away from him, in time.