Shadewood a setting sun, or rolling waves at sea

Small powerplay, feel free to accept or decline.

The ghost greeted her, and Maiira grinned, continuing to look around. The voice of the ghost sounded weak and whispery, but the coywolf assumed that probably most ghosts would sound that way, seeing as they were spirits of the dead. Ghosts did not speak like living things. 

A glossy shadow moved near a bush nearby and the coywolf turned her head to watch. It was a pitiful creature who now struggled to sit up, calling her name. A wolf, but one starved and skeletal. Maiira rushed forward to give aid to the ghost who was not a ghost, allowing the woman to lean against her if she wished. 

’I am so tired,’ the woman huffed.

The coywolf stood back to get a better look at the woman. “This one needs food,” she said worriedly. “Maiira can hunt for you, yes? She cannot bring down a deer on her own, but perhaps some rabbits?” Maiira was generally a kindly creature, one who did her best to help others if they needed it. She was only wicked to those who were wicked to her, first, and this poor woman was certainly not wicked. Maiira was afraid she’d keel over and die of starvation if she did not get something into her stomach soon. Her large ears perked on her head and she looked at the woman for confirmation that she begin her hunt.