Blackfeather Woods send help

the woman is beneath her, and the girl shifts as quickly as possible in order to keep her there, throwing her weight across the girl's shoulders. her muzzle is drawn back, lips curled to reveal pale fangs, gimlet stare boring into the woman. and yet—

"I am not fighting you"

growl slips out, low and frustrated. anger mounts, then ebbs, and the girl remains still. finally, after a long stretch of silence, she shifts, stepping off of the woman. a final snap to her face, quick and violent, and then she withdraws. "go, then. don't come back." she does not understand. surely, trapped as she had been, some instinct out to propel her into action. it had not. she turns, features contorted, and it is only then her gaze lands on the woman.

dark fur, empty eyes—she seizes, muscles tensing as she stops still. the woman's eyes are indigo, not empty. heart resumes to beat, and she exhales, gaze immediately narrowing again. in this moment, the woman is forgotten. gaze drifts to the bone held tight, and hackles prickle before noticing its age. it can't be hers, then. "who are you? what do you want?" her lips curl back again, still on edge, gimlet stare defiant.