Did anyone ever truly recover from their past? Or did it stick to one’s self like the sap of a tree, seeping and sticking until one is a mass of gooey matted fur? Two years since the loss of her family and still the effects of the event haunted the red lass far more often than she cared to admit. Nights were restless, days unbearable, and yet she persevered. She placed one paw in front of the other until it became an endless litany. An unending loop playing the same tune until she could almost hum it while she was sleep, slurp it while she ate, and whimpered it while she ran for her life. Alas, it was the way of a loner.

The sharp coo of an insect draws her musing to the reality once again and multifaceted eyes are called to the left. There laid the entrance and exit to her makeshift burrow, a hollowed space within a rocky outcropping near the base of a looming mountain. Tilting her head, she partakes of the gentle night’s breeze, nose twitching as she deciphers the many scents that dance upon the current. A hare is nearby, the realization causing her stomach to start before she crushes the sensation. There was no need to hunt just yet, especially with the perfume of a border patrol also twirling within the information overload. Instinctively drawing in on herself, she listens, knowing that she took a calculated risk nesting this close to a pack. The way she figured she had less of a chance to happen upon a bear of something this close to such a large pack. Yet she ran the risk of the pack itself happening upon her when she was buried within the confines of the burrow. They may attack her, drive her further away from the borders, and she would go willingly. Oh she would not put up a fight should they come for her, only beg mercy and pray that they were of genteel nature. One finely pointed radar quivers before drawing close to her skull as her body shuffles toward the opening. One paw before the other until only her nose juts forth, a dark blemish against the cool silver of the stone. A pause is given before she reveals the rest of her form, exposed within the shadows of night.

Her heart races within the caverns of her chest as she waits, certain that death will descend upon her at any moment. It was pure insanity for she knew that she was relatively alone, yet that did nothing for the impending anxiety attack. Careful, she must always be careful if she were to survive. Slinking forward with more grace than she felt she descends into the surrounding grass, losing herself to the soft dying stalks of the riverside. They dragged their tawny fingers through her pelt, their willowy bodies emitting soft cries as she glided through them. Focused was she on water, on drenching her parched throat and then…only then would she entertain the notion of a hunt. The mere thought caused her empty stomach to voice it’s acquiesce despite her earlier reprimand. With each earnest rumble the corners of her lips rose until she was positively grinning. It was crazy. She was crazy. She better drink.

Her head had not been lowered for long before her entire body tensed. The cool liquid dripping from her frozen tongue, each droplet marring the vision of her face against a star lit sky. She was not alone. She knew it, felt it in her very bones, yet she knew not how to proceed. It had been much to long since she interacted with another wolf that she feared that she did not know how. How she knew it was another wolf? She did not know? Perhaps it was some innate ability to sense such things. Either way she did not move, did not motion in any way to indication that she was away. She just breathed. In and out. In and out. In……..and……….out.