Thoughts telling me I'm lost getting too loud

Aster headed south, away from the Wall and the lands she’d explored further north. There was nothing there but ice and hardly any food (at least, few that agreed with her stomach). Her favorite grubs and berries? Nowhere nearby. She missed blueberries.

The woods in the north chilled her to the bones. Aster had endured the cold to escape the ooze, but staying up north longterm? If she stayed here much longer, she risked falling ill, and falling ill in lands she hated and foraged poorly in tempted death. Maybe the summer months would be tolerable, but in spring, she wanted to return to a warmer climate.

As she flew, the birdsong soothed her nerves. As long as the birds sang, everything was okay. She trusted her navigation skills to guide her to a better forest. And she trusted the local birds to alert them all in the case of danger.

By chance, she looked down and spotted a brown wolf with a mostly-eaten carcass between its paws. Her stomach rumbled; her left wing dipped, almost of its own accord, and she slowly circled above the wolf until she landed on a nearby branch. Most of the wolves Aster had encountered liked or tolerated her, though she never forgot the danger of interacting with predator mammals.

“Hello! Your lullaby is quite soothing, almost as good as birdsong.” The blue jay leaned forward on the branch, her wings ruffling and betraying her impatience as she eyed the rabbit’s remains. “I’m Aster. Are you, uh, going to eat that?”