Blackfeather Woods Let my mind be your freedom

Namira's Mire 

She'd retreated to the depts below the woods. She didn't care if she wasn't allowed or if it was dangerous. She welcomes the pure darkness, quite unlike the darkness above. In the forest, the darkness was intermittent with a heavy greyness hanging around. Here, you needed owl eyes to see. 
Trailing against a wall to guide her, fur turning slick with some run-off from above. Or wherever. She could hear water running; quiet tricklings that guided her. She'd spent a few days down here. Almost lost, but not afraid. Not completely lost.
The wounds inflicted upon her body were healing slowly. She had to keep licking at them, trying to keep them clean. She wondered what othered dwelled down here. Was the boy, the Mou-Titmouse-Screech boy?
Its a wonder how Wintersbane had just tolerated his presence, seeing as his hatred for the boy was heavy.
She wondered what callous doings he'd done to be so hated. She knew of his scent, his presence. It was fading rapidly. As was Maegis...Maegi. Where was she now?
Numbers in the pack were certainly dwindling.
Yet there was at least one presence that surely demanded attention.
The other, older male in these woods.
His scents were down here, she'd crossed them in her wanderings but not the man himself.
She wondered what sort of person she'd find.
If she ever did find him.

Soon, she was stepping into a river. She followed it upstream, unwittingly, towards Namira's  Mire. She broke out into the swamp, shrouded with mist and cold. She blinked slowly in the grey light. She wavered at the entrance, wondering if she should turn back into the darkness beckoning her below.
She had a duty to the pack.
She gritted her teeth, coldness seeping into her paws and numbing them beyond feeling.