Whitefish River the wires got the best of him

She rolls her eyes a little at his parting words, offering no response — but she stays where she is. An eternity seems to pass in his absence; she has only the river and the frigid winter wind for company, and the slowly-intensifying ache in her neck. Occasionally her wounds sting and she shifts uncomfortably, wincing when the movement inevitably agitates her further. Overall, the wait is miserable.
His return brings more relief than she might have anticipated, to her irritation. Her ears fold back against her skull briefly at the sight of him, and she glances away with a slightly sour expression. There is no doubt in her mind that he possesses some ulterior motive, and she wishes desperately to call him out, entirely disinterested in whatever he has planned — but she bites her tongue for now. Kavik's absence had brought with it an important realization, though perhaps a bit belated: she is not ready to die. Not yet. And if this is her only chance at survival, she can go along with it for awhile. She'll just have to stay alert.