Stella was lost in her own crazy fantasies about what could of possibly happened to her father. He never did re-appear though he wasn't the kind of man to run out on her without an honorable reason. As she felt Claude take her hands, Stella snapped free from the cold grip of fear, looking up at Claude as he hummed and nuzzled into her. Blinking rapidly for a silent moment, silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled softly. "There...are holes in the cloth......do you....think....it could've been.....wolves?" she whispered softly, her voice quivering with the fear of his answer.<br/><br/>No one would've survived an attack from such a hungry, blood-thirsty looking pack as the one which attacked her earlier on in the year. Stella didn't want to hear that her guess could've been right, but somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she knew it was. Letting her head fall forward a bit, she stared down at the bed as tears fell to it, soaking into the red fabric. If her father really was attacked by the wolves, then that meant there wasn't a chance he survived unless by some miracle.