Hushed Willows sichripa

It is cold here. Cold, and it smells weird. There are people here that she doesn't know, and they are headed to a place Dinah only knew by remembered mothersblood.
How many times had she had to tell strangers to leave her alone as of late?
Glazed, hollow eyes find the stranger, the snap of twigs and the sound of foreign voice. There is no fight left in her; not the snap of teeth at heel or a growl rippling from throat. She only stares, wordless, vacant. Go away.