The Heartwood little bird

Somewhere in the dead, darkened forest, a twig snaps; elsewhere, a wayward princess startles and jumps nearly out of her skin. Sleep has not come easily for the travel-worn sylph, and now that she hears the shuffling and cursing of another in the distance, she knows it will be impossible. Her heart beats fast as she rises, turning slowly toward the sound as if in a dream. The scent of blood reaches her first as she crosses through the cold, long-burned forest, well before she glimpses shadowy red through the blackened corpses of trees. She soon finds that this is no dream; the massive creature among the dead trees can only be something out of a nightmare. At least, that's her first thought. Her heart stops for a moment as her steps halt, and her eyes go wide as she takes in the sight of him — a wolf, not some monster of the night. Then she notices his paw, lifted unnaturally as if he cannot bear to put weight on it. He's hurt, she thinks past the fog of fear, and then she's speaking before she can stop herself. I-I can help.

written by xynien