Gyrfalcon's Keep i'm tired and i'm weak, but i'm strong for you.

Leaves crunched beneath Finley's feet as she strode through the fields. Had she the energy to spare the thought, she might have considered how unwise it was to make so much noise as she moved. Reckless as she was, the Blackthorn typically knew better than to bring so much attention to herself when she wasn't actually looking for trouble. As it was, she didn't even notice the red and gold leaves that littered the ground. She barely even heard the sound they made as she moved. She didn't care. She was too tired.

It had been days since she'd slept. Her mission to find Lucy was turning into an obsession that she could not let go of. Even when she tried to rest, she was kept away by nightmares of finding the red-eyed wolf with her daughter's blood smeared across its jaws. Dreams where she had gotten there only seconds too late; where she could see the life leaving Lucy's eyes just as she spotted her from around a bend. The memories haunted her during the waking hours, leaving her feeling sick and wretched even though she knew they weren't real.

Still, the mother moved. Even with her paws dragging across the ground as though she could barely lift them, she moved. Finley was disheveled and thin, her fur an unkept mess, her eyes dull and watery. But she moved. It was all that mattered.

hi

It had been some time since October had parted ways with Rickon and returned to the forest. Scimitar hadn’t joined her, though, and so the pallid Delta felt obligated to resume her search for the children once she had rested and regained some of her strength. She’d set back out again, scouring the unfamiliar vastness of the territories near and far from her home. With how little she had dwelled within the pack lands since Lucy and Rannochs’ disappearance, October had begun to feel like a lone wolf again.
 
Without any caches to rely on, October had no option to find her meals on-the-go wherever she went. That evening, squirrel was the only prey she’d had any success felling. It wasn’t much, but it would hold her over until the next time she was able to find something.
 
Her meager kill swung hung from her jaws as she padded along near the base of the short mountain whose name was lost to her. It was the sound of leaves crunching that stopped her in her path, however, and she froze, nervous that the smell of her dinner had attracted unwanted company.
 
The creature that appeared through the foliage looked much worse-for-wear than October had ever seen anyone. Her fur was dirty, disheveled and dull. From where she stood, October could observe the other’s emotionless façade. Concern for the stranger’s wellbeing wound its way ‘round October’s heart. Setting her miniscule prize between her forepaws, she chuffed softly in hopes of capturing the woman’s attention. Snow-colored ears pressed backwards and she lowered her head, waiting to gauge how her presence would be received.

Finley was unaware that anyone else was near her until the stranger chuffed at her. She froze and twisted to face the other wolf, her eyes wide with shock. The other wolf was pale and young, with innocence and sweetness in her face. The Blackthorn settled her racing heart before shaking her head in apology.

"You surprised me, sorry," she said, shutting her eyes tightly as her own movement began to make her head swim. She braced herself against it, but soon enough her paws shifted to catch her weight and she fell back onto her haunches with a groan. Her head slumped forward as her stomach twisted with hunger. The stranger was momentarily forgotten as she fought to hold down her gorge, which was rising in what could only be protest at being so ill-treated for there wasn't anything within her that could be expelled at that point.

Her heart twisted at the sight of the woman’s poor state. Snowy brows furrowed together with concern. October was no medic, but she knew there was something wrong with the two-tone stranger. When the other’s voice sounded, October immediately opened her mouth to apologize before snapping it shut again. A simple “sorry” wasn’t going to solve the female’s dilemma, whatever it was.
 
She had all but forgotten about the small kill at her feet until she inhaled deeply. It was fresh; she hoped its scent might stir the other’s appetite. “Here,” she said abruptly, nudging the lifeless squirrel towards her company without a second thought. “Please, eat.” She stepped to the side to grant her better access to the meager prize.
 
October fell silent as she gave the stranger her space. Still, her orange eyes scanned her greyscale figure for any obvious sign of injury or illness. Starvation and exhaustion appeared to be the main culprits, but she couldn’t be certain.

The world was beginning to revolve around her, and not in the good way. Finley's eyes were clenched shut as the stranger spoke to her, but they opened ever so slightly as the scent of food took her attention. She didn't hear the girl tell her to take it, but she dove for it anyway. Her teeth sank into still warm flesh and tore. Blood ran over her tongue as she swallowed mouthfuls of barely chewed meat. Her stomach screamed, but she barely paid attention. She just ate.

The meal was gone in minutes, and the ache in her stomach had dulled somewhat. Finley licked the blood from her jowls as her eyes glanced up. She spotted the other wolf as though she hadn't seen her there and thought it deja vu when after a moment, recognition hit her. "Thank you," she mumbled, turning as though to leave in spite of the fact that she was uncertain which direction she was even facing.