Nose twitching, ears quivering, the wind rustling it's way through the coarse and wet crimson fur. Each gust moving and shaping the animals fur to its body. The large amber eyes darting between the trees, observing or searching, we do not know. She'd long since left her den, tumbling on uneven paws into the darkness of the unknown world...
The withered hand appeared from within the ground. It's skin had long since fallen away, leaving behind the prints of bone and marrow of a long forgotten past...