Blackfoot Forest gossamer

His question prompted her to think on the injury and the events had come to pass in the brief time she’d been in the Wilds. Moving her muzzle in a silent chattering, to bring the words up slowly, she shook her head, “Not long. I think.” How long was too long? Would there be something wrong with her leg permanently? She feared the worse now, but pressed herself to continue, “Just… tonight. Is it night?” Is was hard to tell, the forest was so very dark—certainly though she could barely make out the sky, the sun could not be so subdue, it was still only early autumn. She struggled to decipher how much time had passed, having no knowledge of counting minutes or hours. “Have you seen a silver wolf, with a black collar? He fell with me.” Desperate to hear some news of her grandfather.