Shadewood no space in your broken veins

She said nothing as he spoke, feeling the reverberation of his words on the wind, tumbling through her head - in perhaps foolish hope, she wondered if there was a way to simply rid herself of the curses that plagued her thoughts. Some wild secret she'd missed passed from tongue to tongue. But that's all it was: a hope, nothing more. Gwen knew it was useless to waste her time praying for such things - if there was any sort of answer, she'd have found it by now, wouldn't she?

Oceanic orbs of deep blue trailed behind, to take in the appearance of the shadowed assassin - perhaps her answer was standing only a few steps away. A breath of icy air was sucked sharply through her teeth, and she waded closer to him through the seething darkness, eyes closing and muzzle pressing into the black fur of his neck. She craved his touch, anything to wash away whatever the boogeyman had done so many moons ago; would the wrongness still linger for days to come? Would it dissipate entirely, or would it remain, like an unwanted scar? Oh, she bore real scars, too - she hid them under a thick pelage of white, and she did not intend to uncover them.

She would stay tucked beneath Cry's chin, wrap herself in the blanket he provided.