As the day passed and the night came Wiflor felt more and more concerned.  However as they stopped and she saw Atticus set up his tent to sleep she'd take her own watch.  She wasn't in a state to fight, unwilling to eat as obvious as it may of been.  But still she watched through the night and watched as the others slept.  She would watch only from Cyrus' wagon however, not wishing to leave.<br/><br/>Fatigue was settling in but she was ignoring it to the best of her ability, hunger helping to keep her awake and her senses high with the desire to feed despite her weak comprehension of hunting.  She remained as a statue until day broke and as it did she'd feel her urges beginning to arise.  Knowing she could hold out for a few days she would if needed but she also knew that after that she'd lose track of herself around the men.  With the break of dawn Wiflor was tempted to start calling for Atticus herself but she'd refrain from it.  Rather she'd watch his tent, almost impatiently as her tail reached down and touched to Cyrus' arm.<br/><br/>She couldn't leave his side yet.  Just a few more passing of the sun and surely Cyrus would become better.  However if things kept too long she'd have to find a way to get Atticus' help.  Even if she had to lead him to help step by step...