Hushed Willows if i get home before daylight, i just might get some sleep tonight

When she cannot get her legs to function, she hunkers down—Hey.—her ears fall back against her head and she lowers her muzzle to the ground. Hey, it’s okay. She can’t hear her. Qilaq breathes heavily, licking at her lips and smearing blood across her muzzle. Her yellowed teeth are briefly coated red, opening her mouth to pant, torn between pain and anxiety all bundled into one. Years of ache have been compressed into her small body and she knows this is it. They’ve found her.
 
I can help you, says a soft voice. Her skin twitches as a horse pestered by flies with each word, tightening her eyes together. It is a joke. They are joking with her. Qilaq does not try to move, waiting for the lash of claw and teeth for her mistake. Death would be too merciful a punishment.
 
The longer she waits, however, nothing happens. The wolf that spoke to her is still there but she cannot figure out where she is. Her panicked breathing has shifted from erratic to labored and she slowly opens her eyes. The sky is a few shades bluer. The stranger is not in front of her, or to the slight left or right, and she knows she’ll have to move to find out where she really is, but far too scared to find out.