Sunset Valley Little Fall of Rain

Danica hadn't come back. It hadn't been long - a day, perhaps two, and under any other circumstances Bazi would have thought little of it - everyone went exploring now and then.

But Danica was still on the mend. There was still a stiffness to her gait, and she was rarely give for more than a few hours. When morning came on the third day, Bazi went after her.

It hadn't rained, but the tick of time had scrubbed at the trail in other ways. Bazi lost the scent a few times, but when she saw that the tracks were heading in the general direction of the Glacier, she assumed that Danica had gone on search of Tuwawi. Perhaps she had even found the red mother. Bazi's heart thundered in her chest even before she broke into a headlong sprint, hope and excitement rising on her heart like steam from the underground. Tuwawi and Danica. The white wolf could scarcely believe her luck.

But then she found blood. Lots and lots of blood.

There was flesh, too - a dried, red strip of it, caked in mud and trampled into the ground. Bazi did not approach it - did not breathe in its presence.

More blood. Signs of a struggle. A chill claimed Bazi's spine. She picked up speed, breathing shallow breaths, battling to stop her mind from processing the facts and taking the signs before her to a logical conclusion. They had only just made amends. There was more to say - more life to be lived.

At the end of a second sprint, she found Danica.

Flies had claimed her golden eyes, and her midsection had already fallen prey to scavengers - there was nothing connecting her torso to her hind legs, which had been dragged away by some hungry creature and left in the grass. Nothing revognizable remained excheaved dry nose and a parted muzzle, pointing in the direction of home. Perfectly preserved.

Bazi heaved up the contents of her stomach at Danica's still feet.