Blackfeather Woods your wallet is on a permanent diet

The wolf needed to treat his wound but couldn't reach it; he needed fresh blood to wet his tongue, or water, whichever he found first. It was obvious that heading north would not bode well for him—not when that giant woman lurked somewhere in the vicinity—so he was careful and he was quick, heading in among the dark trees while the sky continued to darken with clouds.

It was much too quiet within the forest, he thought. There weren't any birds singing; sometimes he thought he heard a croak of some kind, and that turned out to be one crow or another, calling from either side of the expanse, but there was nothing else. The most subtle of breezes caused branches to scrape. He felt very alone here, and not at all comfortable.