Iktome Plains i remember when

Somewhere inside, the wolf paced, snarling in her own rage, "You are a wolf. You are stronger than this. Pull yourself together." But she was caged in her dark corner, words failing to reach her host; ignored.

Her femur was broken, and Zombie howled with the pain of it, tail between her legs.

Of course, over the span of her five years of life, Zombie had been through countless femurs— and each time one was lost, or broken through the wear and tear of being held in her jaws, the result was the same. Hours (if not days) of grief and hopelessness, before her senses returned and the she-wolf found it within herself to hunt for a replacement. It was her totem, her sense of security, and always had been— to be without the comfort of it in her jaws was like the sudden absence of a limb. Without it, the broken female felt her chance of survival severely drop.

"No, Jinx, nonono," she whimpered to herself. "You don't understand. Shut up!" A rage seized her, then, and she snapped at the air with a snarl.