Broken Antler Fen may you find solace in the gentle arms of sleep, despite the wolves outside your door

It was not the time to be roaming away from her newborns. She didn't want to be, but the urge to stretch her legs and take a break was overwhelming. Eljay kept watch over the children for the time being — after some convincing — and that gave Ibis a short window to move around, clean up, and maybe even get a bite to eat.

Her den wasn't far; it was well hidden among the trees of the fen, but not so difficult that she couldn't return to it if an alarm were raised. Every step she took she found herself slowing down, looking over her shoulder. She did a few circles in the grass before squatting to relieve herself and then got up again, following the trail of dry grass among patches of wetness — glancing every few steps.

So when she tripped, it was only natural. The object she smacked in to was almost taller than she was while standing. It took the wind right out of her. A spasm crept up her neck because she had been looking back when she'd walked in to the shape, and now that she could study it, she saw it for what it was: a curled up body. One she didn't recognize.

Ibis' eyes widened and she stumbled backwards, realizing what she had stumbled in to, and then as an afterthought cast her head up to alert her Ravens — her voice pitched with panic.