Blacktail Deer Plateau I think I need help

though ingram had not ( yet ) been called, he'd faintly heard the low crooning whines and had diverted his patrol so he arrived upon the scene all the same.

snow crunched beneath the dreadfather's paws as he moves past his dagger towards ash paw who fawns over the collapsed, bloodied mess of fur at the outskirts of their claim.

a low growl rumbles in his throat as she sets the deathbringer off on a task to collect what she needed. mages, he nearly wants to scoff: trying to save everyone's life. it appears fairly dire: ivory fur staining deep crimson with her own blood, open wounds and sores littering her body.

she is young — the age of his own shadowchildren, or at the very least close to it. ingram was not known for his generosity for any boons always came with conditions ...and he sees this playing out in his minds' eye one of two ways: either she could be saved and would be a valuable asset in which he could use to basilica's advantage or she would be a worthy offering, another bits of bone to add to his threadbones.

a slow blink and he sees flashes of praimfaya: dying at his own behest, beneath his teeth. the reaction is small but visceral. there and gone and swept swiftly away before ingram could dare to focus upon it. do you think she will make it? he asks ash paw.