Ravensblood Forest who do you turn to when the night is darkest?

she thought she'd found something resembling a purpose in the warlord's little group, but her attitude towards the whole venture had chilled and she'd set out for the coast once again. her prescence was never too long in any one place, and there was fevered restlessness with which she walked the coast. she's not sure what she wants or where she wants to be, and each change of direction is decided on a whim, the simple act necessary for survival commited spontaniously and joylessly. 

she stumbled across his trail and follows it. maybe it's what she's been searching for, maybe it's a fluke, but she closes the distance between them until a few meters seperate them, and then her tail stiffens and is parallel with her spine, ears flat against her crown and nape spiked. she sharges and throws herself at the man from behind, attempting to throw a forepaw over his shoulder and grasp one of his fears with barred fangs. it's quick and violent and certainly infused with a certain amount of anger, but her choice of target is not fatal.