Horizon Ridge Maneater

Kennedy did not recognize the first word as his own native tongue, and her thick accent threw him off further. She seemed a feral being, and Edy knew that those types were best left alone. Still, he could not help but worry about her. She was still a part of the ridge, as far as he could tell, and it was his duty to keep an eye out for his fellow pack-mates. Even if she believed herself to be "perfection," it was clear that she had some kind of something going on. No sane and healthy wolf would allow a carcass to rest before them as she was doing.

“Is there something wrong with it?” he asked, gesturing toward the splash of color in the snow. Perhaps she was avoiding some kind of disease that it carried, though Kennedy could not sense it if that was the case. He had no intention of taking it away from her. She had killed it, and so it was hers.