Hideaway Strath (don't fear) the reaper

The sweet hellhound had been plucking, digging and pulling though much to his dismay so much of what little he found was of rot, death and ruin by the winter season. The cold had not so much bothered Hemlocke physically though he was far from a northern wolf and his fur was thinner then those accustom to the colder regions and/or higher elevations. He knew when he got older and probably more so then most, he would be far more kept up during times like these. What bothered him was the lack of his trade, for during summer and springs the land was plentiful of foliage of all kinds. Now, there was little, so he focused less so on medicines and more so onto what else he favored- the Gods. 

Hemlocke would prey to them, knowing well they could not favor him because of his blood but hoped they would hear him out for the benefit of his pack. Not all in the ranks were good wolves, bad, cruel even...but not evil, so least he hoped. Some even were good, like @Leigh. So this night he had thought to work hard to find herbs, to not use them for his members but offer them to the Gods in the form of a totem as @Poltergeist had done. So that maybe they would keep his pack safe so they didnt need the medicines for the many battles which they waged. 

He had a large Chaga mushroom in his mouth now, hidden deep in the swampy region to the west. He headed gone swift, not wanting to be out in this cold for long. That's when he saw Zsuzsa. He had not spoken with her since their first and last meet yet he had watched her as he often did others within the ranks. She had such a dangerous look about her. A powerful and lean figure. The darkness around her seemed to flow with her, shadows wisping along her like a cloak. Her eyes, as pale as he last remembered them; moons in the night sky. She was everything of a true and powerful wolf he had failed somewhere down the line to before. 

Tonight however, she was different then he had ever seen her before. Slumped near the river bank, panting hard even in the thick snow. His head tilts with concern and after a moment he pulls in closer due to his concern. Head lowering and ears pulling back, he silently comes to her side, a silent questioning in his features. What was wrong?