Emberwood Lurking in the Night

Little did WhisperDawn know that the blood dotting the snow was not only from the doe, but from the wolf that had injured it as well. Wylla knew the stupidity of it, but desperation made for a strong temptress. The doe had been lying prone in a thicket of trees, taking shelter from the blustery winter storm, and the young coastal wolf had seized the opportunity.

Only it wasn't much of an opportunity at all. The doe was more alert than any prey animal had any right to be, and when Wylla's fang met its hindquarters, its hoof met her chest, leaving a fair-sized gash in the soft skin near her armpit. Doe and wolf had both left the thicket immediately after that, with Wylla hissing in pain as the wind drove blowing snow into her sensitive new wound.

She was crankier than normal when she finally realized she was striding abreast a woman who was pale enough to blend into their surroundings; when she happened to turn her head, she started when motion brought to light the outline of a fellow canid. She hadn't been there before, which could only mean that Wylla's pace was flagging. The doe was probably a lost cause as far as she was concerned. Gritting her teeth, the lone wolf chanced to call out on a whim, "seen a nice sirloin steak waltz by here recently?"