And the sound of trumpets

Petra had arrived here after painfully escaping those who sought suffering upon her and her family, barely escaping alive from their cruel fangs. Her hide sporting the few bits of fresh those demonic wolves could take from her before she could run away. An eye and part of tail missing were better than her life, yet it was no reason to smile. Disfigured for life and with an ever-lasting mark on her psyche Petra might never forget those evil eyes, those angry snarls, and the sound of skin being torn asunder.

Quick steps brought the brown wolf into a small corner of this new world she had stumbled upon, one she hoped would held no more of those evil wolves, yet she wasn't about to get her hopes high, she knew there were bad wolves everywhere, and only a fool would trust on others.

She sniffed for anything she might be able to eat, anything. With one less eye to see she had been struggling to adjust to seeing dark in one side where there used to be a healthy organ now all white and lacking of clear images. Along the torn lip that exposed parts of her mouth. Such a horror to see right?

She spotted a dead seal, better than nothing. Quietly she started to eat from it, getting too focused on it to even notice her surroundings, yet her ears were in high alert.


"Speech."