Lost Creek Hollow Inside the bottom of the deep blue sea.

Sarah didn't look like a person, who laughed often or at all, but she possessed a dark sense of humour. Which if there was a tone that was darker than black, let's call it abysmal, had got a matching tone now. Things had turned for the worse, everyone were worried or sullen nowadays and she did not even have to pretend to feel normal or - worse - cheerful. She could be grumpy, antisocial and sullen all she wanted, no one would berate her or think her insane. In a group, where she had been a total outsider for almost a year, she finally felt that she fitted in.

Which in the background of the common misery made her a little more cheerful. Odd, how mind works, doesn't it? She happened to cross paths with a tall, haggard looking russet wolf, and rather than scurrying away on the spot, she stopped, waited and observed him. Then made a decision to go and exchange hello-s and have that stuff people called conversation. "Hi," she told him, avoiding the more proper "good morning", because it would sound like mocking. "I don't think we have met."

The conversation did not last long, because Sarah soon discovered that she was in no mood to keep it going for long.