Dragoncrest Cliffs The wind is on the rise,

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Why did she think coming out here to fight these hooligans was a good idea? She'd been confident in her abilities and could take a few injuries, those would heal, but if she'd foreseen losing her eye, there was no way in hell Wylla would've risked this. This god forsaken cliff wasn't worth losing something as precious to her as an eye. Even when Drageda ruled here and harmed her packmates, it wouldn't have been worth losing an eye to defy them.

Static filled her head, reducing her to a beast that flailed and whined and couldn't get any hold on her sensibilities. Umbra and Sunhawk beat a hasty retreat, leaving her there on the wet cliffs until Stag's voice pierced through her agony and grief and took root in her sentient mind. She went to him imploringly, the remains of her right eye flopping sickeningly against her cheek as she turned her head to look at him. Nooo, she moaned, stumbling toward Stag's bleary outline with the full intent of pressing against him.

She would be okay once she worked past the loss, but right now she needed someone's support to take the edge off her horror.