"Svara...."
"Yes daddy?"
"no matter what happens, your always my little girl."
Pain. It was all the she wolf could feel. It raced up her spine, and legs. It bit at her face and back. While it burned her groin and abdamon. She was afraid to move and make it worse. Her head was pounding making it hard to think about anything. What had happened to her? It felt like something had ripped her apart, but she didn't know why. Vibrant blue eyes flashed in her memory and she coiled into herself. The demon had almost killed her, he had ripped at her body. Why he had done it she wasn't sure, she didn't remember. The smell of her own blood was sickening and making the urge to vomit become almost unbarable.
Would she lie here until she died? The idea didn't sit well with her, it actually made her heart race faster in fear. She tried to think why she was so afraid to die, but she couldn't even remember who she was. Groaning from the pain she was feeling she didn't do anything to open her eyes or find out the damage. What was wrong with dieing? Wouldn't it be an end to this pain? Even as she thought about it her body became restless and her heart beat faster. Something in her said she needed to calm her heart down, or she would bleed out faster then she already was.
The sound of someone approaching made her body tense. Was it a scavanger? Would the approacher kill her? Keeping still due to the pain that kept her from thinking she was surprised when gentle hands lifted her into their lap and soft words were spoken on a shudder. Svara? Who was Svara? Common sense said it had to be her, because the person holding her said it with bitter sweet agony over her broken body. So her name was Svara. It only cause more panic and horror to form. She didn't know anything, except her name. Not even the stranger holding her. After his desprate howl, she opened her eyes.
Looking up at the black and white dog her heart skipped a beat. He was handsome, but not familiar. Who are you?" The she wolf said in a husky voice that was strange to her ears. At this point she was so dizzy and tired she was sure it mattered who he was. As long as he didn't let her die. Leaning her head against a hard chest and soft fur she rejoiced in the males smell. It was so much better then the rustic aroma of her blood. Closing her yellow eyes she held onto consciousness refusing to passout. "Who am I?" Svara whispered.