It was clear from the look on her father's face that something was amiss. He said little over the course of the evening meal and sitting around the hearth afterwards, and he refused nearly everything offered to him. It was only after her parents, siblings, and eldest uncle had turned in for the night that she would hear anything of the day. "We found two more calves out there. Wolves or dogs, we think," Logan explained somberly. "And we wasted half the day tracking down the rest of the herd that got spooked and scattered."
Lyra nodded firmly with a frown. She knew their cattle kept getting picked off, but they just didn't have enough people to keep watch of them all the time. It was disheartening to think of it, though, when it was only the beginning of winter and this was already the third incident in a month for the Carraways.
"We had to kill that bull of his cause he broke his leg," he informed her, shaking his head. "We'll have to start rotating a watch, we can't keep losing them."
"Couldn't we keep them closer to the house?"
"They need the grass this time of year, I'm afraid."
"I see. Do they have a den, you think? How many are out there?"
Her uncle shrugged as he grabbed up the blanket he'd set out to warm by the fire. "We don't know yet, but we're going back out first thing tomorrow to see what we can find of them, hopefully kill 'em, but don't worry about that, Lyra. We'll take care of it, get you some rest." And with that he gave her a tired pat on the shoulder as he dragged himself away and down the hall.
As she stared into the dying fire, though, she couldn't help but feel a sense of despair for the loss of so many of their stock and the rest of the herd being so stressed with it all. Her family worked hard to earn their living and it just wasn't right to her that they were being struck by such misfortune now. She made the decision right then and there to do her duty to them and the livelihood everyone's work provided. Armed with nothing besides a torch, walking stick, and shawl, Lyra slipped out into the night and headed to the outskirts of their lands.
She wasn't exactly sure what she was trying to accomplish, she had no means to be a hero, but she would be satisfied to watch over the herd for the night if that was all she did. Sitting atop a small hill overlooking the mass of snorting shadows in the moonlight, Lyra finally put out her torch so as not to draw unwanted attention to herself and the animals. Determined to keep awake, despite her exhaustion from the day, she kept a wary eye trained upon the darkness at the forest's edge.