Blackfeather Woods never seem to find the time

The sickening sound of flesh tearing and the metallic scent of blood filled the air as the girl turned on the unknown third party. Redshank, wheezing from both exertion and pain, heaved his shaking form across the frosted battle ground as she engaged the other - this was his chance! He set his sights on the direction he had entered the woods, crawling towards it inch by inch, only to feel the sting of teeth against his nape as she redirected her focus onto him once more. With a yelping growl, he cowered, tucking his neck into his chest as she ripped and tore with an unexpected ferocity.

Before it finally stopped, and a momentary silence interrupted the chaos. The Cairn looked up cautiously, locking onto the single, yellow eye of the stranger, almost seeming to glow against the darkness of the forest. It stared back at him knowingly, and he felt his mouth open slightly in shock. "Scr-?" was all he managed to get out before the girl began a renewed assault - this time verbally.

All at once, he was reminded of the awful screeching of that Redhawk woman when they had chased them from the Plateau, and Redshank tore his gaze away from the battered, one-eyed ghost and to the shrieking girl. If her howl hadn't alerted the rest of the pack by now, her screaming surely would. He quickly struggled to his feet, a laborious, painful move, and once more began to retreat into the trees in a fog of confusion and pain. He had to get out.