Jade Fern Grove Sometimes it burns

The rest had been told to stay behind. Some her children, some dogs she had grown with, and family to her all the same. She would take the responsibility of scouting ahead, ensuring that the path was safe for the other's.

Nose to the ground, eyes sharp, she knew all too well of the larger canines in the area.

One stood what must be about eight metres ahead. The hound could tell from the strength of his scent, the soft voice speaking words unknown, and the pawsteps onto frost.

Her head lifted, eyeing the bushes until the slightest amount of movement was spotted.

Tail stood high, head tossing back to release a long and far too loud bark-howl. An alarm to those waiting for her.