Fox's Glade all i've got is instinct

Inkeri veered towards a glad. Fish maybe. She was better at fishing. Though she could catch a furry creature.

Eyes always watchful, shoulders slumped. Where was Anja, Lucius. No where, abandoned her, left her for dead.

Another movement caight her gaze, a svart skinned she wolf. Inkeri momentsrily thought about running the other way, but curiosity and hunger spurned her onward. She chuffed.

Then backpedaled as the other got sick in the bushes. ::Are you okay? her home language rolling off her tongue to dance down.