no rest for the wicked

Remi shivered violently as the early winter breeze buffeted her patchy pelt and the wet mud soaked her undersides through. She shuffled awkwardly on her rump to find a dry spot, but all she succeeded in doing was smearing more mud into her fur. The sound of someone's approach caused her stump of a tail to wag pitifully, head bowed submissively between her paws as the tall stranger's shadow loomed over her small self. Someone had come to speak to her! She was overtaken by a rush of desperate gratitude for this short interaction with someone that she couldn't control her excited pup-like whines. The stranger asked her if she'd given up and Remi shook her head in vehement denial. "N-No, sir. Please.. I want to live, she rasped in her hoarse gravelly tones, yellow eyes staring intently at the stranger's paws. Her words were a plea as if the wolf held her fate in his paws. She, without realising it, had already decided that he was the one in control and that she was at his mercy. She made no attempts to lift herself from the dirt, content in laying where she was until he gave her permission to stand.