Dawnlark Plains god, oh my god, where have you been?

it had occured to neither aphiwe nor tweet that snow was water. while waiting for a response, she took a moment to think of possible solutions. this was a deathbed, the snow that the woman laid upon. it was no place for a living wolf, but umzingeli could not leave her like this.

she was an elder, age made clear by the grey of her coat. even in such a state, she deserved respect and care that apparently, no one else was willing to give. against instinct, aphiwe ventured closer, gently nudging at the stranger's side. 

i cannot do much for you, she admitted, so i will protect you, for now.