Cvetka couldn't find the strength for her customary nightly walk. The stars were enshrouded by a layer of cloud, and the sky was left as little more than sheer gloom. The deep darkness of the world left the girl feeling a modicum of dread. It was too dark. When she looked up, all she could see was the harrowing sight of nothing.

She hobbled out of a small burrow, bits of dried roots and leaves strewn over her coat. Her limb remained weak and sore, warning her against overuse—lest she injure it again.

She paused, raising her injured limb out of habit. Her nostrils twitched against the atmosphere and sought out something to eat. Alas. The air held no scent, save for the subtle musk of impending rain.

Cvetka's lips stretched out in discontentment. Her hind limb stomped lightly against the ground in an idle motion filled with withheld frustration.

She was so useless. Devoid of thought, character, opinions. Reduced to scrambling at stronger wolves' feet and whining for attention like a kicked puppy.

Cvetka paced the small clearing in a tight circle, stomping down the brittle grass to rest once again. There wasn't much else she could do.