Fox's Glade (M) Watch me cry all my tears

morbidly, it is hunger that had her deviate from her clear-cut path back to the Hollow. her mind is still heavy after the decisions she's made and her meeting with Siarut; perhaps she can blame that for thinking the tang of blood to be a potential meal worth investigating. but as she nears it is easy, suddenly, to tell that there is far too much of it; and the gurlging noise sends a bolt down her spine when she realizes it is not prey that lies just out of view. 

the scene is confusing and gruesome, and it takes her a moment of stillness to take stock. the woman is dead, unnaturally, painfully twisted; the male is alive but who knew how much longer that would last. they are huddled together and pain is all she can sense here; that and all to familiar grief, fresh and aflame. he screams and crumples, and it is this that removes her from the situation entirely, makes everything seem distant and surely not real, and all too easy for her to do to him - Evergreen, that's his name - and h*wl once, clearly, for the Easthollow wolves she knows can not be far. their border lies somewhere behind her. "be still. you're still alive, Evergreen." she thinks he needs reminding. she did. "it's not your fault." her mind is working to slow to piece it all together, there was someone else here, but she remembers easily the body of her father; her uncle; she knows how quickly fear turns to pain turns to grief turns to blame. "not yours." she repeats, removed from the situation solely because it stopped feeling entirely real some time ago, this day. she h*wls again, and the huntress moves to stand near the man, slightly apart yet ready to do more should his packmates not arrive soon. she knows the fires of grief and knows they must burn.