Hideaway Strath the loving nest

When Sirius had gone, Lotte crouched next to the body, careful sweeps of her tongue blotting the bitter blood away from Ran's torn throat — covering the scent of Sirius' saliva with her own. Her mind flitted quickly, constructing a story that she could tell with her own filthy, desecrated mouth in hopes that Sirius would never need to dirty his own lips. She could smell the boy all over the corpse, and she knew — she knew, even as it turned her stomach — that disposing of the evidence was the best course of action. She couldn't risk doing that while he was on his way back, though. Moonbright eyes sharpened as her hackles rippled, saliva pooling in her mouth at the nauseating thought of eating wolfflesh — but for Sirius and Hemlock, she would do whatever she had to. As it was, she loped off to the nearest cache where she'd placed the body of a fox; it was too cold now to plausibly be the culprit for Ran's demise, but she could at least rub its pelt over the cooling, stiffening bag of bones.

She lay the bloodied, musky fox across the little girl's body and used a gentle massaging motion of her forelegs to mesh the furs together. Only when she could smell the stink of fox and death more strongly than she could detect Sirius' living, breathing scent did she stop, returning the fox to the cache and settling down with her head hung low to wait for the boy.