A less distressed Luperci would have known she crossed into a pack's lands. Orin, however, was unaware of her trespass. Perhaps if she realized she was upon the borders of Phoenix Valley she would still have crossed, seeking sanctuary and refuge in the peaceful pack's homelands. A mother with as much cause for paranoia as her should have known that she moved into claimed territory, but it was also understandable that an exhausted woman like herself had little awareness of her surroundings. She was dehydrated, malnourished, and feeble. All around her the shadows became haunts and the wind was devilkin tugging at her hair. She did not even know someone else was nearby – someone other than the haunts that tortured her – until she heard the concerned voice as it whisked across the graveyard.

Her clenched eyes darted open and almost bugged as she jerked her head up, golden gaze shooting across the cemetery to peer at the slate shaded woman that materialized before her. What did she say? Orin stared at her dubiously and remained stark still for a long, awkward moment, until finally the words the woman spoke penetrated her hazy mind. Are you alright...? They words... Were they like his? Was this another devil manifested before her, come to do her more harm? No. Even this abused, strung-out woman could detect the genuine lilt in the woman's words. Still, if she was here, who else could be lurking around them?

Puffy, bloodshot eyes scanned the graveyard. In one sweeping glimpse she saw nothing. Yet beneath that, in the shadows, she saw every evil she had ever known. Did something else stalk this ground, or was it just her bruised imagination?

It was a chore to force her eyes to turn back to the woman before her. Somehow, there was enough sanity left within the broken woman to keep from screaming and running from the first thing that might offer her help in a long time. The urge to flee was fierce, and for a moment she was unsure if it was trust for the stranger that kept her still, or if it was just her utter exhaustion.

Finally, after long, peculiar seconds had passed since the Valley woman's inquiry, Orin's glassy eyes met the deep liquid amber of Tala's, and she shook her head fiercely. All at once crying out with a strength she did not know she still possessed. “No! I am not alright!” If the gray woman before her was a con artist, here to trick her into admitting her vulnerability and then taking the last precious thing from her world, Orin would have fallen right into her trap. “I'm not alright.” She said again as she again dropped her head and buried her face into the bundle in her arms.

“Evil follows me,” she said through a suffocating sob. “It has taken one of my babies, and it teases me. I am the mouse at the cat's mercy, and it toys with me. I just need to keep my angels safe... but it's taken away my ability to even be a mother... to keep them alive... they're weak because I'm weak.” Tears sopped into her cheeks and into the two small faces that peeked out of the bundle in her arms. The pups were alive, but under the cover of their despairing mother it was difficult to determine their health.

The first instinct of many who had suffered as she had would be to recoil in terror and fear as the woman approached, but this stranger remained still as the ashen woman approached. She knew the woman came near, she could hear her move despite the roaring whip of the wind that raced unforgiving through the cemetery. The words of hope echoed through the chill dusk... Let me help you. Slowly, she lifted her head again and turned her gaze once more onto Tala, catching the concern that lined every facet of the woman's features. There was no moment of panic, no yelp at her closeness. Instead, Orin stared at her, dazed.

Then the woman's hand reached out so carefully, so gently, and laid on her with a kindness that, for a moment, chased away the darkness that stalked her. Her heart tripped and for a moment Orin remembered a ripple of who she once was.

“Church?” The fear and grief left her visage, replaced by curiosity and confusion. A church... the word, the thought brought up images of the great chapels she had read about, the published photographs she had seen in the books in the store she had abandoned. Most importantly, it brought up the word... “Sanctuary.” The word formed but Orin hardly realized she had said it, so focused on the idea of a great steeple in which she and her children could be safe. After all, that is what happened in the books... Those seeking refuge came to the doors of these mighty houses of worship and appealed to the priests for sanctuary.

Finally coming to, Orin nodded so vigorously it was as though her head might bob right off of her neck. She glanced around the graveyard once more, then brought her gaze to rest on the woman. “Yes, please,” she spoke urgently. “Can we go now?” Despite her request it was clear Tala already meant business, that the woman was already prepared to guide her to refuge. Nevermore did Orin dream up the images of the devils and demons that she was so sure were following her. This seraph would see her to shelter.

The angelic woman only served to solidify Orin's sudden and fervent faith in her when she spoke her oath as she gently urged her from the ground. The splotched wolfess was weak and the momentary respite had only served to chill her muscles and stiffen her legs. It was a chore to even gather herself from the ground and she relied greatly on Tala's assistance. Luckily, she was short as a hare and thin as a waif, and helping her along would be little burden on a healthy Luperci like Tala.

Orin hardly noticed when they were finally walking, stunned as she was. She looked back and forth from Tala to her babies, and occasionally her wide eyes would peer behind them, searching for other tracks or shadows. She saw it all, too, as she had this whole time. Tracks pursued, footsteps whispered around them, shades shifted at their sides. But now their threat was gone; there was an angel at her side. “Thank you,” she whispered at first, and then swallowed hard. When she started again, her voice was louder but not much more forceful. Her golden eyes peered ahead, eagerly awaiting the sight of the shrine. “Thank you for helping us. I couldn't... I couldn't take one more step alone. What... where am I? What lands are these?”

The thick trace of an old woodfire suddenly filled the atmosphere and enveloped the pair, it's soothing scent flooding Orin with promises of warmth, safety, and shelter. Just a moment after she detected the lingering scent of the waning fire the silhouette of the church appeared before them, and soon the women were at the threshold. This place of salvation was a shadowed blot against the darkening sky, but to Orin it was carved from gold. Despite her wonder at having arrived at a church – a place she had never visited before – she did not stop to marvel at it's threshold. Instead she moved inside seamlessly with Tala's guidance.

Within, everything felt like a nightmare turned dream. The mother felt as though she had entered a state of limbo, still too shocked to feel relieved yet no longer experiencing the terror she felt in the graveyard. As she moved through the aisle with Tala, her eyes scanned the long pews, studied the dais, and searched the high, vaulted ceiling. Soon it was all out of view, though, and it was up up up. Up the stairs they went, though here Orin needed Tala's assistance most of all, and leaned on the woman. Her own arms remained clutched to her daughters, and her legs were so worn and weak that she was hardly able to clear one step, let alone an entire staircase. Yet she needn't fear, for the seraph, in her great mercy, helped.

“Oh, I shouldn't take your bed,” she started to protest before taking time to absorb the room they had come to. Despite speaking the words, she knew she would accept if the woman insisted, but if she did not she could arrange the blankets the pups were bundled in into a little mat for them, as she had been doing all along, and slept on the floor herself. Even the floor would be a world of comfort right now. “I'm sure I can figure something out. But yes, I would love some stew. It could even be porridge right now and I'd be happy. I'll make it up to you, work it off, repay you somehow...”

The sight of the room began to register then, as Tala led her over to the nest of pillows and gently eased her down into the pile. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Orin wondered if they were in the room beneath the parapet she had noticed outside. She was in a dreamy state now as she watched the woman turn and retreat from the room. There was a soft patter as she descended the stairs, and then suddenly Orin was alone again. The angel had left, and now the darkness was creeping back.

She drew the bundle to her breast, tightening her hold on the sleeping puppies within the blanket. She clutched them as much for their protection and comfort as for her own. Nothing's there, Orin... Nothing's there... she tried to reassure herself. Yet all of the reassurances in the world could not stave off the fearful cold sweat that began to mat her fur. She breathed deeply, the breaths mutating into a worried pant.

“M-miss...” she tried to call out, to summon the seraph back to her, but her throat was dry and her voice barely cracked in the silence. Tala was only gone seconds when terror began to wrap its cold tendrils around Orin. She shrank away, making herself as small as possible in the nest of pillows, wrapping herself around her daughters.

Now something was coming, Orin surely heard it... up the steps... a dark shadow in the entryway. “Ahh!!” She screamed, but the cry caught in her throat when she realized that it was only Tala, and not some big bad demon man. She heaved a sigh of relief, and tried to compose herself. The puppies in her lap writhed, now having been woken up by their mother's short yelp. “I'm sorry. I'm just a bit jumpy still, that's all... Hope I didn't startle you. Is that the stew?”

Luscious, inviting scents wafted from the bowl Tala held, and Orin graciously accepted the offering. If her pups could have eaten this type of food she surely would have given it to them frst, but they were still relying on Orin's milk to survive. Orin needed to nourish herself first so her body could finally produce the milk her daughters so desperately needed.

“Yes, I would like some water too. I haven't had much milk for my daughters because I am malnourished. This stew will give my body the strength to start feeding them again soon, but I need to get water into them so they stay hydrated. It's been a long time since their last feeding...” Her voice trailed off with a crackle of grief. She was still afraid she would not be able to produce milk for them. She could only hope.

Orin picked up the bowl of stew and greedily downed it. The sooner it was in her body, the sooner she would begin to produce milk for her babies again. Now if only they could hold on until then.

“But wait, don't leave me again! What if you never came back?”