Swiftcurrent Creek redrum

For @Jace

The day after the longest sleep of her life, Bazi bathed in the creek and groomed her fur until it shone. After that, she barely lifted a toe. Nightingale had passed her probation, and neither she nor Ferdie were home. This suited the pale girl, whose vast backlog of thoughts was pressing against the back of her eyes, making her headachey and irritable. She lay still and silent in the grass near her shared den, watching the water hurry past. The sky was grey, and the colours of the world were muted.

I murdered someone yesterday.

Something told her that this was a big deal, but she didn't feel it. There was no guilt, no horror - no elation. That strange albino wolf had died for trespassing and inciting violence, and that was entirely right. Of this, Bazi was certain. Her memory of Shar-Kali confirmed it - she could see her ghostly mother nodding in agreement, as if the question had been "Is the sky grey today?" or "Is prey for eating?"

Bazi licked her muzzle. The fur tasted cold and impossibly fresh from several hours of grooming to rival even Ferdie's efforts. If everything was fine - and logically, it was - what was this heavy feeling?