Fox's Glade hi welcome to dennys

Terror, everywhere — and then nowhere. Instead of that seething voice behind her, this one was calm, but still beckoned for her attention. Exhaustion made her hush, and the fatigue that she felt eased her quiversome figure. Safe. Was it really?  Crescented on her flank, Aurëwen numbly assessed the male before her; and curled in on herself tighter, ruff disheveled.

As with Dennan, no words came when she parted trembling lips — not at first, anyways. “You,” she bit out, clutching at the rock beneath her as if trying to meld herself to it, “who?” Slurring past the salt and the blood, past the vertigo, the faintness that crept up within her, “Who are you?”

How can I be sure you won’t hunt me, too? Who was he? Why? She stumbled, when the more reasoning part of her told her that she should be thanking him. “You,” Aure stuttered, and then she was turning — but then another great wolf arrived, all while she was fending off the lingering darkness at the edges of her worn out mind. Drago. Isi. Verx. Vonn.

Had she not been so harried, she might have recognized these hinters as those near— “Easthollow-w. Knows me, Gr-Greyback knowsme,” tripping over the blood on her tongue, slurring, “M-my eye, can’tsee, healneed, healer, I am healer, n-never treatedeye, can’t s-see,” wobbling when she tried to rise, and instead pressed herself back down again. Drago. Isi. “Ch-children, my-mychildrens—“