Mount Everfall April is the cruellest month
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Snuffling along an old deer path, the lean wolverine ascended the mountain, following the scent of something dead and decaying up in the loose rock below a sharp cliff. With her clawed paws, she made no attempt at being stealthy- and would have no reason to, given the fact that the meal she was sniffing out was definitely already deceased. Little, flat rocks went tumbling down the slope as she ambled along, until she caught sight of a few vultures hunched over and feasting.

She ambled forward, bristling, lifting her thick, broad tail as she picked up a trot. Head up, she uttered a guttural squall that sent the turkeys reluctantly hopping back a few paces from the corpse. They’d opened the mountain goat’s belly and stripped some of its innards, but the wolverine still had plenty left to scavenge.

”Apologies, mateys; but ye’ve hadger fill, now g’wan, go find somefin else an’ leave this with Auntie Cashew,” She expected no rebukes, and the great black birds shuffled away, spread their wings and flew off. They knew better than to expect that a Wolverine would leave anything behind. For Cashew, this was an easy win- and she would eat every last bit of it.