Honeyed Pasture I Can Go the Distance

When the other wolf made no move to approach, Saraneth stopped retreating. She stood tense and ready to flee on trembling limbs. As she stopped, awarness of her own form crept onto her. With a crash upon her consciousness she felt hunger, exhaustion, pain; her whole body ached and begged her to rest, but her mind was still focused on the wolf. 

She realized there must have been some time that passed as the wolf was sitting a few feet away. the rumble in her chest faltered and her tail, set high and alert dropped, not completely relaxed. Saraneth hesitated for a moment eying the other wolf with more clarity and suspicion then before as she went to mimic the position. 

Her exhausted limbs has other ideas and Saraneth found the full weight of her large frame crash onto the ground. Her legs refusing to carry her a step more. A soft wine escaped behind a tense jaw as her mucles began to seize and cramp. Indeed her mindless travel took a toll on her body. 

It was only then that she heard the kind words. The black wolf turned her attention up to the pale wolf for a moment, processed what she had said, then turned to her paws. The dark bad were indeed cracked and bleeding, one of her nails had chipped deeply and was left raw and exposed, it stung as she licked it. Her too dry and rough tongue not much aid in soothing the agrivated apprendage. 

"...where?" her voice cracked, her throat dry and the voice not spoken in quite some time.