LOST LITTLE SOUL

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Amalia has been wandering for quite some time. Typically a cheery girl, it is strange that she finds herself rather downtrodden. First her home had been handed off to another woman, miss Loccian whom the doll respect dearly. Then it had been handed off to another, and her family had all left. Amalia had been none the wiser, left behind to do as she would, confused about where to go or what to do.
Lately, she?s been rather lonely. The months are long and hard on a rogue, especially a girl as sociable as the russet-kissed beauty. Winter has come, the frost gripping into her ivory fur as she trenches onwards, into the depths of the North. Her teal gaze glazes over, focus far away as she trudges across borders and dens alike.
She knows not where she is when she collapses, a shivering mess of a girl. Her pelt dull and thin, patchy in places; her emaciated form exposed and vulnerable. She breathes in shallow breaths, clinging to life. She?s just resting for a moment, and then she?ll be up. She has to find her father, has to find her mother, has to keep going.