Moonsong Glacier ulalume

Reyes had spotted something sharp-bodied and ginger racing across a nearby field. He'd made his way through the woods only to find himself turned around, having been spat out on the ocean-side rather than deeper in to the valley. He blamed his wandering thoughts for that; but as he emerged to a nice gust of humid sea-brine, he spotted the shape.

It looked more like a coyote than anything at that distance. More importantly, it was injured — and as he was already lagging behind in his travels, Reyes figured another day spent roaming around wouldn't hurt. He was hungry, there was food.

So, he picked his way among the green until it transitioned to exposed bedrock, chunks of mineral deposits, and the obvious sign of something wounded: a blood trail leading deeper and deeper through the territory. He doesn't know what, or who, he pursues. The blood twists and turns as the trail winds seemingly without reason — until he spots the ruddy coat of something wiry, collapsed upon the earth.

As Reyes draws closer his shoulders bunch, his top-line of guard hairs raising. He sniffs at the air and finds only the scent of blood; the closer he gets, the less and less hungry he feels, and the more empathetic to the twisted and broken creature laying there before him. He's been there — broken and lost — but, what can he do?