Shroud of the Lost when the night has come

Woya felt her fangs meet flesh, but the satisfaction of that was fleeting. The much larger wolf surprised her with the ease by which she lifted her aging body, perhaps the first time yet she had ever truly felt old. There wasn't any time to contemplate. The ground was gone from beneath her paws and while she tried desperately to hold onto Ryenne, to even drag her in with her, Woya did not get her way. Her brown eyes went wide as she fell into nothingness. Just wind and butterflies in her stomach and she gritted her fangs, refused to make a sound.

Brie-bee.

She hit rock, and it killed her instantly.