It had been a long day and Fiammetta was eager to return to her den. She was still numb from the shock of her attack on the strange wolf she had mistaken for Tobias' imprint and she moved as if in a daze from the blood-soaked place where she had almost murdered an innocent. The thought shook her to her core and she blinked her single good eye in dismay, slinking over the rocks as though she had not enough pride to even hold up her ruined face. Had the fire made a mistake in its blessing of her? Had she let it down? These and many other notions just as unsettling washed over her mind like flood waters from where there was no escape. She simply had to attempt to stay afloat in the current or drown in it. So absorbed in her own mind was she at that moment, that she barely heard the voices until she was close enough to make out what they were saying.

A cavernous hole in the earth yawned skywards, and it belched out the thick scents of strange wolves so that Fiam, who was in no mood to socialise, was roused to run from it. However, her bloodline was not prone to running, and curiosity had broken through her black despair to leave her wondering what on earth had drawn all those wolves to congregate in such a place. She scented the air but found nothing, and glanced warily at the strangers that milled around her, no doubt also drawn by the same interest that piqued her tired mind. Their nearness worried her, made her remember that her pelt still reeked of freshly spilt blood, and she melted into the shadows of a rock nearby and crouched low, out of plain view. They would know she was there of course, but she hoped they would not bother her where she hid. After all, patience, which was never her strongest suit, would not be her bedfellow that day.

Fiammetta - Female - No Home - No Family - 5YO - 28 inches, 32 pounds