Blackfeather Woods closing a goddamn door

the coyote hung around wherever Astrid directed her, never daring to traverse the woods. She had been obedient, mostly, these past couple weeks, careful to not ignite the woman's wrath and spend another night in Wolfskull. She was a mess, frankly; filthy, and the fear and darkness of this place getting the best of her. She crept through the shadows, bolting back to whatever place offered relative safety whenever she heard something that might be a wolf. 

thirst had her wander, today, and she crept to a stream, drinking greedily and quickly, gaze travelling in every direction, fur on end, ears stiff and paws prickling, prepared to leap away as fast as physically possible should danger in any form present itself.