Reflections

Thorne does not expect to be followed. As she slinks away into the undergrowth, the occasional leaf or branch snagging at her glossy pelt, a voice cuts through the air, ringing with concern. Startled, the mahogany fae pauses to allow the women to catch up, fur bristling with caution.

If the black and white she-wolf stopped to face her, Thorne would regard her through wide eyes, tail twitching with agitation. “I’m sorry if my sudden departure seemed...odd” she murmurs finally, aiming to meet the woman’s gaze with her own. ”The truth is, I was-am-feeling a little...unsettled”. She scuffs a paw along the earth, relishing the soil as it sinks beneath her claws. ”I doubt you can help me, however. And even if you could, you wouldn’t want the trouble”. She speaks honestly. Relying on others has never come naturally to the fae, and she truly believes that the she-wolf would not want to bother helping a bedraggled stranger like herself.