Ouroboros Spine Under the bludgeonings of chance

Tonravik knew how different the life of a lone wolf was to being pack. Each meal found could be the last for a while. Salamander was more likely than not hungrier than most. These were all things she assumed. Tonravik had the fortune of traveling alongside Echelon for a long time, and she had been pack enough. Then, Kroc. And now she was here, and Ivitaruk had come, and the wolves here would re-assimilate and become pack, too.

Wolves that were alone for so long might need some reminding. Salamander

The look was missed, too invested in the prey to note the undeniable greed there; Tonravik drove onward. She herself nearly bowled into the wolf who did not move with the creature as it shifted its path, and a growl of frustration broke forth when Salamander was then in front of her. Tonravik did not know her intent was to keep her from the catch, and her eyes for the moment were on the others limbs, not the rabbit. But in her peripheral, she caught sight of the white thing, and turned to race after it.

To no avail. It dove into a hovel. The leader was nothing if not persistent. She circled the thing, once, twice, ear twitching to listen for Salamander, and then she began to dig.