She said, "I'm sad, "

Sun shined to the world itself, embracing a beauty through the speckles of the wandering clouds. She could see the plains ahead, between the bursting forests surrounded by the mountainous landscapes around. Daunting that they were, large ravines crept out and she yet to find herself travelling through them, continuing her time within the forests ; until had found an opening of the meadows.

Scattering trees took their place throughout, and she found the sun itself guiding her ways to a particular area that stood upon a hill. Miriam with a smile and a hum to her step continually moved out, and as she passed the tree and brushed against.. Unfortunately her eyes caught the site of another, besides so. She was about to apologize for disturbing, for the wolf did not smell — but it was not someone.

It was but a corpse.

Fur now gone and skin still attached, bones were seen as the animals ruffled through the unfortunate soul for anything to grab for a quick snack ; but it was a wolf, "May the Goddess be with you," she so prayers lightly in front of the fallen body, with no name to grab itself. Wounds attached and yet could never know the truth death ; just the factor that whoever it was, was left alone within beside this tree to die, alone. At the very least, Miriam could see them off.. Even if she missed their life by so long, prayers would be given.

Yet her soul lurched, twisting at the heart in ways she couldn't understand. Droplets, forming upon the left when staring at who was once there, and now only a mirror of what was a wolf. A sadness, taking over that even though Miriam was sympathetic to the loss, even she couldn't understand why there felt like a wound within her very own soul.

"The Goddess, will light you to the summerlands, pray to thee', poor unfortunate soul, lost to the world itself. Fate will repay you."

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In the calm of this lonely, sorrowful space, a mysteriously gradually began to rise. Amidst the tracks of carrion-eaters and opportunistic feeders, there were the pawprints of another wolf, similar in size to the one who died. The prints were old, mostly wiped away by wind and rain, but they clearly had joined the wolf on the ground up until the moment it laid down and left this world. The only other tracks of note were fresh, fresher than the carrion-eaters, and they were the pawprints of a smaller canid; either a fox or a coyote. 

The wind that drove through the mountains was often a random thing. It would lie dead and silent for hours, blowing hardly a leaf or a speck of dust, until some appointed time arrived and it would stir to life. The mountain winds swept between peaks and down through canyons, and they carried pollen and birds… and scents. At the precise moment that Miriam might notice the other pawprints in the area, the wind chose to fly past, bringing with it the scent of a wolf, and the scent of a fox… and the stink of blood.
 
Could it be just a coincidence? Something to ignore, or cast aside as simple happenstance? Or was there something to the timing of that wind, and to the discovery of this lonesome dead underneath the solitary tree? Either way, the wind carried the smell from around a rocky outcrop ahead, from somewhere beyond this quiet and reflective space.

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She prayed to the Goddess, for the souls departing to the Summerlands. She knew not the signs of how it happened and yet — moments later upon the breeze did she catch such a scent. Her ears flickered, and though could not hear such a fellow.. Moonlit whites gazed below, to the faintest pressuring on the ground. Indications, that this lost soul was not alone within her departure, or perhaps someone else had found her so? Though before.. Before to find such an individual, for it seems the magic was leading her so, it was only right..

If she were to bury the other to where she had fallen. 

Digging as she did, the dirt now covering the once markings as she continued and on — until finally was deep enough, where she would tenderly lay the mortal, abandoned body to rest beneath the ground. Where no fauna, would take predatory on and take her bits as a keepsake, and where the Goddess, can fully wrap around her within an embrace in not only soul of the Summerlands, but a body as well. She would pray, once more, "she shall guide you, may you rest within the summerlands, and in eternal peace," Miriam so said, before turning away.

The scent still upon the wind — but now she could smell them more clearly, a foxen with the signature of blood itself that for a moment, her heart seemed to drop as she drew closer to this sign. Miriam thought that perhaps, destiny was taking her to someone ; lended by the fallen wolves being and yet..

She looks ahead with some skepticism, to what she was being led to. May the Horned God protect her on this path of wanderlust.

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Ahead, amid tall grasses and lonesome trees, lay the next piece of the puzzle. In one of the few patches of soft ground, the soil broken up by the scrub brush and wild grains, a small depression had been dug. In that depression lay the source of the blood-stink; an exhausted, faintly painting, and direly wounded wolf. It was a male, an early adult by the looks of him, small in breed and barely larger than Miriam herself. He had been bitten, severely, but the wounds were old and dried and crusted, and did not appear to be healing. They had been cleaned, however; even a novice in the craft would see that someone had tried to provide something in the realm of care to the fallen beast… And fallen it was. By the looks of the grass around it, and the soil and dust that had accumulated on it, it had not risen in days. 

Near it, Miriam would see a fox, slight of build, gray-furred, and quiet as it padded over to the wolf. It dropped a vole from its mouth, laying the slain prey creature next to the undisturbed body of a juvenile grouse. Both bodies were deliberately placed near to the weakly-panting he-wolf, who didn’t seem to react to the fox, or to what looked to be a second gift. The fox cocked his head at the wolf, standing and waiting. Both creatures seemed unaware of Miriam’s approach.

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Perhaps the Goddess had led her so. Though she could not arrive in time to help the fallen who laid in meat and bones ; so torn by scavengers she couldn't even tell who they originally were.. But on the wind there was blood, the smell of others where she followed the trail so and prayed above that her guidance would be safe. She knew it was a shot, to whether be trouble Miriam sought or some soul within a needing of guidance. Trained, as a medic, she knew her way around herbs and the arts of healing ; but did not think it'd be put to the test oh-so soon. She not wished for anyone to be injured, but it was much better then the thought of a monster on the end of this pathway.

When she crossed the hill, the pale girl noticed two individuals ; a wolf laid and injured, weakly panting with a fox beside. It started at the other, un-attacking and not covered within wounds that otherwise, would indicate a fight. Were they.. Helping the other? Silvers gazing toward the messy cleaning upon the wounds ; maybe it was true.

The Goddess so blessed Miriam on this journey to where if she could not help one, she could help another, "Do you need help?" but she so would ask, not wishing to interrupt if the other, was confident within their abilities. She had not met a healing fox before though.

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The fox jumped at the sound, despite the gentleness with which it may have been spoken. He turned and lowered himself down, his brown tail fluffing out, so that he was between the desperately sick and wounded wolf and Miriam. After a moment, the words sank in, and the fox relaxed. She had asked if he needed help… There was no growl, no rush to attack and make a meal out of the fallen male wolf…
 
Milenko silently shook his head, voiceless as his eyes expressed concern rather than fear. He angled his head toward the wolf, and to the untouched prey-meals near it. The signs suggested that this fox, had been trying to feed the dying thing to no avail. The fox lifted his nose toward Miriam, then toward the wolf, as if to say ”I don’t, but he does.”

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The Gods have trusted her, and so she will. Miriam spent time scavenging around the area, she looked for what was needed such as painkillers, flowers to help the bleeding, some that helped clear throat ; and it was like luck struck her. For whatever she needed, she would find the midst of the mountains, and found it quite unusual especially as she felt some of the herbs didn't seem like they grew in the season, but she threw that thought within the back of her head as a mistake. With each find, "Bless to thee' for this guidance," would the young maiden mutter within prayers.

Though she could not save that soul that laid to rest.. She could help another to the best of her abilities. At the very least, he seemed well enough that he could talk and mutter a thanks, before some time would pass. Like a nurse, waiting and waiting for time to go until finally, would the man get up, and Miriam will rejoice to the Goddess of his quick heal. It seemed he was more exhausted, and even emotionally scarred by the deal then actually harmed ; she nodded to the coyote as well for their quick actions had also seemingly helped.

"May the Horned God guide all your path," would she say as a farewell.

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