That.

Sucked.

Luckily for her, she had managed to avoid a killing blow, unlike so many others. Poor Vitus, poor...others who she didn't really know. She had watched the three wolves around the poor young man from a distance, whispering her own prayers for the dead before a certain little body caught her eye. Shit.

Purse! Sparrow barked out, sounding a little frantic, like she did on bad mornings after her nightmares ate at her all night. Boy c'mere The coywolf trotted to the pastel boy, startling somewhat when they realized their legs were glowing like how they would when channeling magic.

Great. Super. What a big fucking joke from the gods, giving them the glow without returning their actual magic and filling that little hole in their scrap of soul.

Of course Persimmon would have been the one to get injured, the one pup that couldn't feel shit in her current charges. You've got wounds Purse she told him, though she knew it wouldn't slow the boy down one bit.