Haunted Wood no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out

her move succeeded, though she was too slow to pull through - the wounds ripped open across her face burned, made focus a fleeting thing. and yet, the prospect of giving up, of loosing, was all too terrifying to contemplate; her victories are what held her together. but she was losing control, of the anger, the hurt, rapidly. as soon as he stood, she circled and rushed towards his side, attempting to tear at the soft fur and flesh of his underbelly, reminded of the grouse hunt then.