Herbalists' Cache Sore Paws, weary body

Rowyn at any other time would have been appalled at being called a weakling or soft. But after what he had just seen and dealt with. He no longer cared what anyone thought of him. His only goal now was to exist and survive. That was it. Even if he wasn't entirely certain how too. 

A soft fluttered of wings and a flash of gold lit up the gloom. He ducked his head further unsure what it was. But it was a small bird that settled nearby, but not near enough to catch. And its bizarre behavior made him realize it was important somehow.

He tilted his head and when no blow came, only silence and a soft breathing. He peered from his legs. Slowly unfurling himself from the fetal position. He licked his lips and stared. Unsure.

Did the bad man that killed her send you?