Blackfeather Woods does the lighthouse shine to seek, or to be found?

Ocracoke doesn’t stray far as the woman works, feeling useless as she digs for her. If she steps forward to help, she might be getting in the way more than anything and so she waits patiently until told otherwise. Perhaps the woman would give up after a while, leave her to whatever is left, but it continues until she’s alerted. Her tail moves gingerly back and forth as she steps closer, her nose touching the ear to find the groove in the ground. Her paws touch softer dirt and she carefully steps forward, turning a circle as before and lying down. It takes a few shifts and moving some of the loose dirt and curling up.
 
The girl is quiet for a long moment before she lifts her head, nodding a little and standing. Pain shoots through her again and this time she whines, whining, and she’s standing an instant later. Her tail shrinks between her legs and there’s instinct to crawl beneath the ground into a proper den and being left by herself but the thought alone sends a terrifying shudder through her, shaking her head. Having children had never been important to her prior to this, nor is it now, but her disadvantage leaves a sickening feeling in her stomach.
 
She moves out of the divot in the ground and bumps into the other woman accidentally, stumbling back onto her haunches. Panic begins to fill her chest and she struggles to take in a full breath. Once, she’d been a caretaker, knew herbs and medicines, but she’s left empty and hollow and afraid of what’s going to happen next. “Wh-what do I-I-I—” she trails off as another waves sets in and she squirms in her seat.