Mudminnow River nobody blames you

She is cold, beyond cold; it had been easier for her in the summer when the sun had warmed the earth, but there was frost in the mornings and at night, and soon enough it would be all day. There are snows now that there had not been before, and she does not have the lean muscle that she'd had before her captivity. Now her body is thin and wasted, her coat sparse. She was a beautiful thing once, and now she just looked sorry.

She plucked herself from the hollow.  It would do her no good to get attached to the wolves there no matter how kind they were, for she'd be going home soon.  Following along the bends of the river that fed the creek, she came to a halt at the sight of someone on the horizon.  She almost misses him, the same colour as the trees to his side, and her ears fall to the sides.

Once, she would've acknowledged him.  For now she bends to the water and takes a drink, but her eyes never leave his frame.