Lake Rodney Whispering

He would not have to wait long.

Though he had wanted to wait just until she had passed out before he either drowned her in the lake or broke her legs so he could safely drag her back to the Caldera, he was given neither option as the wolf before him went into spasms. His breath hissed through his teeth as he recoiled like a cobra about to strike, but he kept his distance from the reeking, convulsing wolf, whose body twisted at an unnatural angle, contorted and broke until it finally fell still. Could he have given her a better, more painful death? No. So seeing her suffer in this way- whether she felt the pain or not- was enough for him. 

He moved forward cautiously, only when he was quite sure she was dead. He took one more sniff of her corpse just to reassure himself that she was, without a doubt, the wolf who had killed Peter. Scent confirmed, he took a few moments to ponder what to do next. Surely, she would no longer be poisonous, if she was dead...But Shrike knew nothing about poisons, and thus, he assumed he was safe. To be careful, he grabbed the nape of her neck where her coat was clean of blood or spittle, and began to drag her back to the Caldera where the pack could finally rest at ease knowing that the murderer was dead.