She died. She knew she died. It was only a matter of time until it happened. Where hunger gripped her constantly, where she was worked to death. That day had come, she was dying. And then, she woke up. How? How was she still alive? She was supposed to be dead. The mutt shakes her fur out, as best she can before realizing. Oh, Adonai, why did you put me in the form of a dog? And a starving one at that. Her ribcage was showing, she was skin and bones, a walking skeleton. But she had to find out where she was, and perhaps get away from them. The mutt stumbles up, huffing. "Can...Can I get some help?"