Enya's POV
Enya looked up when she heard grunt like groan. The smell of burned flesh assaulted her nose. It was a smell she had learned to deal with having a burned body not ten feet away. Her green eyes narrowed as she looked at the wolf that now laid not 20 feet from where she was sitting. Her lip rolled up in distaste. Yet she couldn't seem to do what she usually did. She decided that she would try and find out what had happened. Seeing as he was now an outcast from the pack lands her land bordered.

Standing up she still had a bite of rabbit in her hand. Grease coated her mouth and chin as she walked around him. He truthfully looked like shit she thought to herself. "What the hell did they do to you and why?" She growls irritated at the intrusion into her territory. She could clearly see that he was no threat to her since his face was badly burned. His face swelled to the point of him becoming blinded. His multicolored coat was actually quite beautiful but at the moment looked like hell as patches of fur had been ripped out. Probably from the thorns that covered his pack land.

She didn't want to make a decision on ending his suffering until she had a right answer. If he had done something to cause his branding she wouldn't hesitate to kill him. However if it was something stupid she might consider helping him. Without thinking she lowered herself down closer to his level as she awaits his answer. Picking a leaf from his fur twisting it in her hand as she looked back down at him.

Crow's POV
The dominate scent of the land owner came closer, and Crow couldn't help the skin crawling feel that clawed its way down his back. He couldn't seem to catch any break, to find any moment of peace even just to be miserable. But she demanded an answer from him, one he couldn't give in this shape. So, Crow let the wolf recede despite how badly it made his face hurt.

Still, Crow did not give her an answer just yet as he lay panting heavily for breath. Rather than fur, he was clothed in what could barely be considered rags. The nice things he had once owned had been confiscated by the pack. Giving him nothing beneficial in return. Only enough that they would not have to see him naked.

"They accuse me of being what I am not, and branded me for what they believe I am." He finally was able to muster words. They sounded scratchy in his parched throat, and it was clear by his body that could be so easily seen through his ratty clothes that he was extremely dehydrated and hadn't eaten in awhile. Crow had rolled over to lay upon his back, his face easily seen now, and the burn marks red and gruesome on what had otherwise been a handsome face. "I am just a loner." Crow breathed out. He had said it a billion times, but the pack had seemed deaf to his words. Would she?