Clearly he had scared her, there was no doubt about that. The ghostly wolf watched as she panicked, her body reacting to him moving from his perch and disappearing into the fog around him. Somewhere deep inside of him something had stirred. He watched as she ran up the slop, but all his eyes could see was her falling, getting hurt, and it would be all his fault. Just another's blood that would cover his paws. This wasn’t something he could handle, so he followed the she-wolf. He made sure he watched her even as he played his dirty trick. What he didn’t expect was for her to faint. He blinked and looked down at her limp body that made a sickening thud as it hit the ground. He didn’t like that, he didn’t mean to cause her harm, he just wanted to play his trick and then introduce himself, but alas he would have to wait until her eyes opened, but he wouldn’t let them open in this dark place.

Gently, this white wolf laid on his belly, inching his way towards her in a slowly, in case she did wake up, but she was still there laying limply. As he crawled, he flinched remembering how her body tense up, her breathing becoming labored and erratic, he caused her not be able to breath. This female had done nothing to him, she’d just managed to come upon him as he was napping. What was wrong with him mind to think he had any right to clearly scare this female so thoroughly that she fainted? He shook his head and continued to crawl. He was a white wolf with a dark heart, one cultivated by pain and misfortune, there was no rhyme or reason for his trickery. As he got to her body, he nudged her until she was draped over his back. He turned his massive head, shifting her so she laid lengthwise over his body, her head hanging near his own.

Gently Siky nuzzled her face, happy her breathing was a bit more even now. So he stood and started to walk. Each step was calculated to make sure she was jostled around on his back, but also so he wouldn’t lose his footing and fall down the cliff. After what seemed like a while he managed to get them high enough that the fog was still dense, but not as bad as it had been when she first came face to face with her ghost. Maybe that’s all Siku really was, a ghost, unliving, haunting the world that had done him wrong. What a sick twisted fate that would be, but that same thought brought a smirk to his dark muzzle.