Release your mind, through your hands and your feet
A sigh digs you out when you are getting to deep
Even though Sibyl wanted to do nothing more than hide beside the den and hope that the demons tainted with the illness wouldn't find her, she forced herself to venture past the pack's borders in search of prey. But that didn't mean she wasn't any less scared. The calico wolf was practically crawling from tree to tree with flicking bronze eyes rimmed by the whites of fear. It seemed Grizzly Hollow's days in the Lore might be numbered, with the disease spreading across the land putting the Hollow's leaders at unease, but Sibyl couldn't let those things get in the way of her duty. Even if her pack chose to evacuate this Eden that Sibyl had come to love, they were still here, now, and there were still steadily growing not-quite-cubs to feed.
She had to keep telling herself that it wasn't too far, and that Aniu, or Destin even, were just a howl away. The thought was hardly comforting though, and she wondered if the demon did find her there would be enough time for help to arrive before it killed her. As the icy marsh came into sight, she forced these thoughts down and unsuccessfully tried to steady her shaking limbs.
The musky scent of the rodents had lead her straight to the wooden fortress nestled along the edge of the marsh. She was no stranger to hunting the fat, greasy water-rats, but they did take a good dose of patience to catch. Within eyeshot of the beaver lodge, she crouched down into the shelter of some reeds and waited. The air was heavy with their scent, and she knew sooner or later a beaver would have to exit or try to enter the safety of the lodge.