Isabella furrowed her brows, eyes filled with evident doubt. This woman was by no means alright, which simply meant that she was lying through her teeth. Isabella had not stuck her head in a tree hollow; she could see plainly that this stranger, to her, was cold and injured. Now, why the woman was denying it and unwilling to ask for help was beyond her. Snorting lightly, a soft white cloud of vapor appeared and disappeared before her nose, carried away by the chilling wind. It ruffled through her pelt lightly, doing little more than moving the strands of hair, which then settled back into place only moments later. Isabella instantly took a step forward as the woman before her gave a convulsive shuddering, the pelt on her flesh rippling in chilling twitches. On top of that, Xochime attempted to stand and let out a whine, which made the hybrid woman flatten her ears in concern. She herself had little understanding of the meaning of cold, not remembering the days when her pelt had not grown in and she still relied on her mother's body heat. That had been long ago, and now Isabella did not fear the cold breath of the frosted monsieur of the deepest winter.
Heaving a desperately heavy sigh, Isabella lightly stepped her way to the side of the chilled canine. Pressing her side against the one weakened by injury, she did her best to support this pitiful creature and ensure she avoid pressing down on that leg. "You ought to come with me to my small home. It is undecorated but I'm sure I could get a fire going quickly enough." Isabella glanced up from Xochime's shivering form to gaze at the shadowed ruins that many called home. "It is close and the stones will block this wind. You are not made for it," she added, rather redundantly. It was an obvious statement but it was meant to be so. This woman had clearly not planned well for the weather, though she had fur like other canines. It must not have been cut out for such sharp weather. There had to be ice where water had remained, and snowy white frost dotted the dried grasses, bushes, and tree branches like dangerous candy.
Before leading the pained creature from her refuge by the tree, Isabella grabbed the deceased carcass of the hare between her jaws. Its flesh was cold against her tongue and the blood was chilly. Silently, she led the woman to the set of stones she claimed as her own. The wind no longer picked at their fur and the chill of the freezing breeze was dulled to the temperature of the still air. It was quiet and the smell of old embers permeated the air with a mixture of hidden lavender. "Please, by the fire if you would like. I will try to get it going. Would you like something heavy to cover yourself?" inquired the colorful woman as she deposited the woman in her home open to the cloudy grey sky above.
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