Whitefish River What the night knows

The evening sun glinted off the surface of the river as Koontz drew up on its shore and relaxed back onto her haunches. Squinting her pale eyes, she angled her head toward the setting sun and could make out the silhouette of the plateau—her plateau—in the distance. The sight of it made the tip of her pewter tail stir. Although she couldn't actually see them from this distance, she imagined her pack mates running around up there, readying themselves for day's end.

With that thought, the she-wolf rose back onto all fours. After taking a drink, she began to pad northwest along the riverbank, looking for a good place to cross back over into the flatlands. Her shadow stretched behind her like a nightmare apparition and her icy blue eyes glowed in the gathering gloom of nightfall.