Blackfeather Woods Rust to rust

averna dutifully was rearranging the altar's scabbed tableau, placing upon it in her own whims the whittled bones of their mother. her sister startled and astara instinctively glanced upwards, her hackles lifting as the knife-thin features of a wraith swam into view.

like her sister she wished the rest of the world would stay out of their home - it was no longer a pack but that did not mean they no longer occupied it, and a low rumble started in her throat as she regarded the sharp features of a beast she instinctively knew was malignant.