Moonspear i'm only young but that was long ago

Hurt?

The only indication of an answer was a shaky bob of her head. A doleful fluttering of her eyelashes brought her to the point of blackout, but she held her ground just long enough to hear his encouragement to look strong. If that was the requirement, she would surely fail. The pale man of few words – Dune – seemed to fade in and out of her focus. One moment, he was the small red form of Indra, and another moment turned him back into himself.

Another white figure sauntered toward them with authority in his step and a glint in his gaze. Her paranoia made her nervous, turning his gaze into one of cold judgment over anything else. The shadow tried to take Dune's words to heart. She bowed her skull to the scarred wolf, averting her eyes to the left – away from the two of them. Once she lifted it, she held her head as well as she could to appear capable. Dune turned into Indra again, and she was standing on the edges of the Duskvale claim. Charon turned to Saena and the glint in the blue of his eyes appeared to her in the form of burning beryl. She could not tell the Moonspear wolves and the Duskvale wolves from each other; her desperation had carried her to join only two, if Charon would have her. The shadow felt herself sway a bit on her limbs and her hocks throbbed, sending a jolt of pain through her frame that brought her back to her present company and reality.

“My name's Lucy. Here for a home, if you'll take me,” the ghoul answered their Alpha with a gritted jaw. The stub of her tail was tucked tightly to her rear and she could feel it through her spine. “I'm not all useless. Sneaky as a fox, quick as a hare,” she tried to bolster herself.