Stuck between a rock and a hard place

Alfrun was pleased enough to settle in Fireside's borders up until now, learning the lands and the faces and scents of the pack that had combined with her niece's band, but she had bestirred herself to seek out the various ingredients and materials she thought she might need for some... important works. She was keeping an eye out for other things as well, to entice the appetites that her husband must surely have hidden away and to ease whatever ailed him. The gathering had taken her further than she was accustomed to venturing these days, and so she found herself in a place she had not yet been, in time to feel the earth leap beneath her paws. Unconcerned, she widened her stance and crouched, balancing against the buck of the land until it had come to an end, and stood up again, letting her gaze wander over the land. Glowing sparks swirled, ebbed and flowed where the dust had been stirred up - and... curious. They seemed to be gathering. She tilted her head to bring her normal vision to bear on the gathering of lights to see a body laying prone, the clear victim of the land's violence. Well, it would harm nothing to inspect the body. She meandered through the uncertain footing to stand over the form, and saw with faint surprise that it was, in fact, still breathing. Smoothing a paw over the body, she set to inspecting it for major injuries. After all, the gods themselves often took the form of mortals in such way, and she would not have it said in the halls of the gods that a Finnvi had forsaken a potential god-in-hiding. A brindle dog was perhaps an unlikely form for a god to take, but a hound guarded the underworld, so who was she to say whether the gods would find them sufficiently holy?