She woke to the sounds of carrion birds fighting. She felt the talons of one on her back and weakly lifted her head to snap at it. The action resulted in a pained whine as it pulled uncomfortably at her torn neck. The whine itself vibrated the ruined turbinates of her nasal cavity and she lowered her head miserably. Ophelia didn't need to look to know that the wolf behind her was dead. On shaking limbs, she lifted herself up and placed one paw in front of the other towards home. The ruined princess did not turn back. There was nothing behind her for home was ahead.
It took a full two days. By the time she reached the borders of home, she shook hard with fever and her breaths came out in pained little gasps. Her lungs hurt as badly as her neck, her face. Ophelia knew she could not even howl to let them know she was home without setting her nose aflame. So she trudged onward with a singular goal in mind. Get home. Home to Mama and Daddy and Papa.
Her pale coat, once so pristine and vibrant, was stained with dried blood and mud from the times she'd fallen on her journey. Every part of her ached, but still she carried on, looking only for the comfort family could offer. Daddy could fix her right up. He was the best healer. Could the best stitch her torn neck back together? Fix her nose so it didn't hurt so badly? Make her lungs work properly again and not feel so full of bad stuff? Even if he couldn't, he was still the best healer.
As Ophelia neared the den, her will diminished and her limbs crumpled beneath her. At least Mama wouldn't have to wonder what happened to another one of her children. She'd come home. Ophie hoped Joannie and Fee would, too. One day.