Lake Rodney With every small disaster

Kiwi wasn't sure how long she was out, but by the time she came groggily to, the blind wolf was long gone.

Feeling suddenly exposed, she got to her feet, then slunk northwards.  Her head ached and she was in a hell of a mood, but she maintained a grim silence.

For the last few years she'd made sure she was infallible.  She'd trained, struggled, and conquered every task thrown at her.  She'd never been caught like that, unable to tear at her enemy.  The memory of it was sore about more than her throat, and she tried to remember what had happened.

How had she known where Kiwi was?  Was she telling the truth, then?  Witch.  A curse.  Kiwi shivered, glancing behind.  She could almost feel those cloudy eyes burning into her from somewhere unseen, and for the first time since returning, she felt the familiar paranoia of the hunted.