Am I Friend or am I Fiend?

Kia padded quietly through the forest that day, feeling a bit down. She missed the company of other wolves, and being a loner meant she hardly ever found herself face-to-face with that of her own kind. And this foggy place wasn’t helping her mood any. She found that she was thirsty, so went off in search of a stream or a pond to quench her need. After some time, she did come upon a small stream, so small that she could step over it to the other side quite easily. She took the opportunity to drink, and then carried on her somber way.

Soon enough, she scented blood. What kind of blood she wasn’t sure, but it was definitely blood. And a little while after that, she could smell another wolf. With a hopeful wag of her tail, she picked up her slow ambling pace, wanting to catch up to whoever was nearby. Suddenly she skidded to a halt. Blood? And a wolf? “Mother Goddess,” she gasped, and then kicked her back legs and took off at a dead run. No kin of hers was going to die if she could help it. This she vowed. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know them. A wolf was a wolf. She would do what she could.

Unfortunately, she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. What she smelled was the blood of a bird, and the wolf who had killed it. Why she couldn’t tell it was bird’s blood no one knows. All that matters is that he had misunderstood the situation and now she was determined to help the “poor broken wolf who could be dying at any moment.” And, as this was all she was thinking of, she damn near ran into said wolf, leaning back and skidding in the dirt to avoid ramming right into the cream-colored female.