Cassiopeia's View the master and margarita

Out of the Hinterlands they came, though Wednesday ranged ahead when Gristle moved more slowly than she would have liked. It was not the first time she had left him behind, but the tawny man found her again eventually. She never questioned how; the she wolf did not hide her activity, so it was doubtless that she was easy to trail. Gristle was the last of the wolves she had been with before the famine took them. She was an assisting nudge. Wednesday killed when necessary, such as when she was challenged and her very important pride was on the line... and also, when there was no other food to eat.

Not many would agree with her cannibalistic way that fatal day, but she hadn't heard Gristle complaining as she picked at their bones. Since that day things had astoundingly looked up for the duo. In passing they had scavenged across many a large carcass. Wednesday did not fear for the karmic forces of life; she had lived long enough to know that death was inevitable, and she did not really care how. Any who had come against her had been put off, and any who didn't would die if their death served her. She was a survivalist, and that alone.

The Canyon bitch began to ascend the rocky landscape ahead. Up and up she went until she came to an area where the world at large could be viewed, her harsh yellow eyes devouring the horizon as she wondered where she would go to next.