Lone Star Mountain combustion

Saghani took some steps forward when the odor of blood came to her nostrils. It gave her another moments pause and she turned to look over her shoulder. When her eyes fell upon a flailing, falling wolf Saghani turned away. She was stupid with one idea, and that idea alone. To challenge a wolf for the scraps of a rabbit was too counterproductive. It would waste energy and time, with little reward for her efforts. The rabbit would not sustain a wolf of her stature. Saghani was a whopping one-hundred pounds when well fed and had lost much of that healthy weight in her time alone. She was still the perfect picture of a wild wolf, not yet to the point where one might simply see her as nothing but a bag of bones. 

And if she could fell a ram? Saghani could make it for some days more. The lone wolf instinctively desired to fall into a pack, but she wanted to be clear-minded. The fog of hunger was not easy to see beyond, and what she wanted to see for herself was a future where she could rise. There was no room for that in her natal pack, her mother, even despite her great age, in her prime. Her eldest brother was her successor. For all of Saghani's experience and will, it did not yet match his own. 

The dark she-wolf would let the other and their food alone. Saghani sniffed at the air briefly before continuing with her own plans.