Ravensblood Forest wet skin and dry bones

@Supernova perhaps?

Blessedly, a river coursed at the foot of the plateau where her half-eaten body now rested; despite the cold, his flight from the pack wolves that would surely chase him took him to the flowing water in an attempt to hide his trail. When he felt he was no longer in danger of pursuit— although he was sure they would not give up until they had someone to blame for her death— he paused to wash the blood from his fur.

It was dangerous, that, for he was still not much more than skin and bones. The cold could swiftly ruin him if he did not seek a sheltered place to dry; but a forest toward over him just ahead, and he swiftly towards it, within the safe shallows of the river that would hopefully mask his trail. A glance backward, and he then entered to seek out a hollow in which he could rest and dry his soaking— but now clean— fur.