Spotted Eagle Mountain To the outside, the dead leaves laid on the lawn

She had passed out again, this time woken by the strange feeling of something cold against her face. She saw dark paws as her eyes sluggishly moved around to find the source of the strange feeling. Her mind tried to piece all the details together, but everything was foggy. Someone was here—someone familiar. But she immediately disregarded the figure as just another hallucination. They had no scent. That was how she had been able to assure herself any other time her mind had tried to trick her. Her lungs burned then, and she realized she hadn't taken a breath yet. Breathing was difficult at best right now and what she did manage was slow and harsh. She drew in a ragged breath when her body finally demanded it and was hit with his scent. But how? How was he here now when she had seen no one for days? Weeks? 

In any other situation where she was vulnerable, she would be angry that he was here. He had been the last wolf she ever wanted see, or so she told herself. But all she could feel right now was relief. Relief so strong that she tried to lift her head and say something. But when she tried to summon words, only a scratchy almost gurgle came out. A wave of pain moved slowly from her stomach and up her throat. She tried to vomit but as all the other times before, only drops of thick yellow liquid fell onto her already stained front paws. She dropped her head again and just like that, the relief was gone, replaced by acceptance and despair. She was going to die here, and she was sentenced to do so with Mahler watching. All she could do now was hope he saw the plea in her droopy gaze.