Lost Creek Hollow stonefire

/activates

She shivered slightly as she exited the shallows (she still abhorred deep water). The cold air stung her flesh like a slap. Regipre quickly licked the excess moisture from her tawny pelt, then faced Shardul. By now, she knew the rules. At first, the ploy had repulsed her as much as it intrigued her, for it required close proximity to her enemies and playacting that simply did not come to her naturally. Nowadays, she found a grim pleasure in the farce, happy to bait the wolves so that the cougar could slay them in cold blood.

The three-legged coyote plodded toward the nearby border, unleashing exaggerated and pitiful whines with every few hops. Her wound was no longer open, so Reggie could not claim she was the victim of a recent attack. Now it was just about attempting to garner pity from kinder wolves or evoke a predatory response in those that spotted her weakness and wanted to prey upon it. It was all rather undignified and repugnant but the ends justified the means; as long as she could draw out the wolves, Shardul could kill them.

And when she suddenly stumbled over a root and fell flat on her face, it was authentically pathetic.