Blackfeather Woods Let my eyes be the rhythm

The woman nodded slowly as they walked, listening to Wintersbane and following the path of the Listener. The threat of war was a real worry to her, but one she vowed to prevent.
At any cost.
She wouldn't let the forest fall under attack because of her actions; deserved or not.
She sighed heavily, trying to dislodge the sinking feeling of her heart falling through her chest and the tightness in her throat.
She knew, as she supposed the rest of the pack did, that the woods wouldn't be able to stand against an attack, especially not from two other, larger packs.

They came to a stop and the Listener started her work on putting some plant matter into the wound and cleaning the remains of the blood. She held her breath, tensing as the pulp was applied tot he wound. She looked at Wintersbane for some time, formulating her next words. His help would be appreciated by all; certainly, it could avoid a war.
But she knew she'd still be looking over her shoulder for a long time. Perhaps forever. she'd been marked for a member of Blackfeather and had been attacked for it.
"Everyone would be grateful if you did so. Though it may avoid a battle, it won't end the war." When the Listener had finished she said her thanks and departed from their company. Blackfeather was a target, no number of favours could keep it from their backs.
She needed time to think.

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