King Elk Forest Ungrateful

The howl had risen behind her, and she didn't hear it. Her mind was fixated upon her new husband, or guardian, or whatever he was — this burly man full of attitude and swagger, reminding her so much of the men of the Company. Whether or not Storm was a part of that, he had created a link with Camilla and now had an unwilling (but dutiful and obedient) woman at his disposal. Their travel was punctuated by a one-sided conversation which droned on and on, until the forest. Until she could slip away and hide, but Camilla knew it wouldn't be for long.

And it was here she was set upon by a dark figure. Their strides were well placed - she almost didn't hear him coming - but as the body careened in to a patch of ferns nearby, Camilla's head ducked and she pulled herself away even as Phox's face came in to view - and his voice. The panic of his arrival was replaced by a furious concern.

Phox! She said sharply, filled with surprise and then - wait for it - terror. Sshhh, shhh, he find you, but even as she warned him she was pressing against his dark figure with her silver-streaked one, comforted by the boy's presence and eager to bestow flicks of her tongue to his cheek and throat; submissive to him but glad, too, for the potential to say a proper farewell.

It did not occur to her that Phox was there to save her life.

I had to, I sorry — he, he came, I had to — she pleaded with him, voice stricken with worry and sorrow, and then she fell silent but trembled against him.