A world drenched in red...of demon skulls overflowing with glistening streams of the finest red trickling from gaping maws spanned in horror. What was kept within the mind's eyes were these and the expectations of a future shattered by lusting fangs seeking only blood. And blood… the very essence despised by the merciful eyes of the golden Nomad. A precious essential wasted due to misunderstanding and blind rage. Blame was a fickle thing to place, for whose fault was it really? In the grand scheme, had they not all played a part in this? Even the victim himself for treading unprepared into the unmerciful teeth that lined the coyote’s den. It had become painful to even think about; that fangs belonging to her pupil were among them, nestled comfortably… ready and willing to become useful. But to what extent?
A grave disappointment settled upon her shoulders, dragging down both broad back and step as she trudged along with the wounded in tow. She had offered her back as support as the devastated male hobbled on mentally and emotionally torn. To see him like this… to see any for that matter this broken turned her nose away and kept her eyes on the familiar windings of the path ahead. She could not look at him because in part she felt she had caused him this pain. Association was both a blessed thing as well as a curse that damned any unfortunate. The Nomad had never believed she would experience such damnation.
As his feeble body dropped down to the ground, she turned to look at him at last, eyes dulled with indifference, her face growing empty as she peered at his pitiful state. It pained her to look at him, but she did none the less, watching as he wound around himself holding onto what solidity his form could give without further damaging himself. She saw in him not a broken man, but a pup forcibly thrust into one of life’s cruelest lessons; that not all that bore faces were friendly, and he had experienced the pain of unbiased hostility not for force submission but genuine pain upon him; just because they could. Wearily, she smiled as he addressed her and turned her broad shoulder toward him to offer her support. The larger of her four-legged forms became a support for him to muster and develop his strength upon til he was able to walk on his own and be lead toward the she-wolf’s den.
The golden beast kept to the outskirts of the territory straying not too far from where her den and company resided, but kept the distance should they be found by the inquisitive eye. She hadn’t the will nor patience to explain this outcome and felt better in dousing the possible conversation all together. She lead the two of them beneath an uprooted tree using its naked roots as a shelter. Silently she turned her muzzle to her wounded companion and woofed softly for him to sit.