Silver Moraine And the cracks in my hips

It was no threat that approached, only the snow-coated woman who had kept her company the night prior. A feeling of guilt washed over her momentarily; maybe it had been rude to leave without saying goodbye.

My leg will be alright. She responded, looking back to where the wound was beginning to scab over. I'm tough, I can handle a little scratch.

Resting was not much of an option in Calfuray's mind. She had to keep moving - a still wolf was a vulnerable wolf. 'Was' because they wouldn't be living for much longer. Did you sleep alright? I know it isn't always nice out in the open like that. By now most would have been chased off, but for some strange reason she just couldn't bring herself to be mean to Rala.