Blackfeather Woods send help

you are melonii. it is your birthright.

it is empty, now, or as empty as the place can be. she knows the wood will never be entirely empty; the crows, the ravens, the ghosts. earlier, she'd seen a glint of steel fur, seen a pawprint at the entrance to one of the tunnels. she had found bones, small and large, and fresh. 

she hears the murmuring, and adjusts her course duly. she knows these trails still, remembers running them with scylla. it does not take her long to find the woman, and feel the burning rage that comes with her presence here. there is little logical basis, that she understands. she'd left here long before, the pack disbanded. there are no more borders, no more trespassers. but her mother's body lies here.

"get out." the words are grating, spat at the woman as she approaches, stiff-legged from the side. her mother's bones. the empty wood. she snarls, lunging for the woman's ear. should she land a grip on her target, or anywhere along the woman's face or side, she would whip her head from side to side in an attempt to deal as much initial damage as possible.