Deepwood Weald we can't all sing in our cages

Her wandering went on unchecked until the scent of blood reached her nose. She'd not eaten, but the wolf was not hungry. It seemed as though she was never hungry anymore. Still, her nature dictated that she investigate, and try to make off with the meal if she could. Mannoah liked to have things; liked to have other wolves' things.

She changed directions and came swiftly face-to-face with another wolf. He must've heard her, she realized, must've decided to do some investigating himself.

"Hola," she murmured, her voice hollow and scratchy and unsure. Now that she was in another wolf's presence, she was not as sure about her decision to steal the meal away. Why bother?