Shatterverse Panfandom RP

Denver, Colorado is, as the sun rises to noon, very empty.

Except for now. Now it has a black wolf, ears laid back, fangs bared - before she darts to the nearest crumbling building to hide out. Much sniffing ensues. An hour later the wolf ventures out of her makeshift den, giving a slow sniff of the area, pausing every so often to scent the air and look around.

She's consumed with two thoughts: there were humans here. Humans and something other, with a scent like the poisonous stench of a Wound. Thought two: she's checked, but she can't peer into the spirit world. She can't feel a Gauntlet. She's felt the Wall Between Worlds at its thickest, when she ran with a pack of werewolves. This isn't like that. It's as if there simply is no Gauntlet - because there's nothing on the other side.

Gradually, these thoughts and the massive implications of them are joined by a third: she's thirsty. For the first time in centuries, she needs to drink.

The wolf spirit known as Howling Wolf is not one to suffer in silence.

The wolf throws her head back and howls - long, loud, lonely.

Then she trots out of the heart of the city, seeking the outskirts, hoping to find water along the way.