How long had it been since the dark princess had run across the cliffs of Diveen? How long had her fur stank of swamp gas? How long would she have to remain here, a captive of the insane alpha? Why hadn't anyone come for her? Did they even know what had happened? Did they care? So many questions and yet no answers to sooth the growing anxiety within Wren's chest. Standing close to the border that separated the Glorall and Iromar, she gazed at the path that would lead her home with tears in her eyes. Of course, she made no move to escape. She knew that jade eye wolf was always watching her, keeping her hostage until Blackthorne gave the command to release her. As big as she was, Wren was no fighter.

True, Zharko had been kind to her, gentle even, and had been doing his best to teach her to fight, to defend herself from attacks. But, she just couldn't bring herself to hurt another. It must have been so frustrating for him to be stuck with such a useless wolf. Maybe that's why no one had come for her. What would a pack do with such a pathetic creature? Wren had never, truly, contributed much to Diveen. If she had been queen, she would have laughed at a wolf as pitiful as herself. With a humorless chuckle, the two-toned wolfess turned away from the boarder, and moved back into Iromar, unaware of the eyes that followed her as she did so.

The summer months were not kind and as the day wore on, the heat rose steadily. It was not nearly as hot as the days in Diveen, but for a thickly furred wolf, it was unbearable. Panting, Wren sought shelter from the sun beneath the thick trees of the swamp. A shallow pond appeared and, after making sure there was no terrible monsters dwelling within, she took a dip in the chilly water. Swimming seemed to be the only thing she enjoyed lately. It took her mind off her depression and allowed her to concentrate on keeping her head above the water.

Once that was done, she returned to the bank where she laid down, half her body still submerged. Trying to ignore the nagging hunger in her stomach, Wren pushed herself further into the mud to silence the growls. Ever since her capture, she hadn't been eating properly. Her once plump stomach had withered away until some of her ribs were starting to stick out from under her fur. Maybe if they thought she was sick, they would kick her out of the pack and she could go home. It was a disgraceful attempt to free herself, but the poor thing was beginning to run out of options.