Overture Downs You're picking up the pieces to the ghosts that will haunt you

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Kieran raised his muzzle to take in a whiff of the air, pausing once he caught scent of a stranger. He did not believe the scent was one he knew, anyhow. Curious, the boy wandered closer to the source, eventually seeing a chocolate-coated wolfess. He perked his ears, padding ever so slowly closer, hoping that this woman was no threat. He was on high alert - you never knew what strangers were like, after all.

But, as he approached, he noticed that this wolf... was sniffling. Kieran tilted his head, watching from a few metres away. What was wrong? Hopefully it wasn't anything like... death. The young hunter had come to realise that above all, death pained most. He knew from experience. He had lost his mother at such a young age, but he continued to remember. He looked up at the stars every night (he believed they were the passed wolves), and at sunset he would bury some prey for her. Not just her - for he had lost others, but most were not dead. Or, he did not believe them to be dead. Just missing.

"Um... miss? Are you okay?" he tried to talk to her, feeling sorry already without even knowing what the problem was. The boy hated to see others sad. He walked closer still, noting now the tears rolling off the woman's cheek. He had to know what the issue was now - he wanted to help.