Chimera Fields I only feel gravity and I wonder why

He heard Steady's familiar howl on the wind, and though his name was not included in the call, Phocion trotted down from the mountain anyway to peer at whatever the fuss was about. The cream-colored wolf trotted across the barren fields until he caught sight of Steady, laying down. His fur bristled. Something was wrong.

As he approached, the strange, pungent smell of new death hung lightly in the air, surrounding Steady like an aura. He saw that the dark beta was laying next to a still, pale form, his head on her neck. The dead female had the smell of Silvertip on her. My God, Phocion thought, shaken.

He had just learned of the old alpha's death, and now the famine had taken another from their ranks. He never had met this young wolf, didn't even know her name, but felt a small pain at the loss of one of their own. Surely Steady had called to the others to help carry her body away from the birds flying above, impatient to feast.

Wordlessly, Phocion laid next to Steady and the female's corpse, far away enough not to be intrusive but still close, so as to fight off any carrion-feeders that could swoop down. "I will watch her body with you while the others come," he said to Steady, his voice quiet and a bit choked.