Stone Circle Trashin' the camp

A sudden pressure seized upon her tail. Nanook spun with a wild snap of her jaws to rid whatever intercepted - only to find she clicked the air mere inches from Murdock's face. She locked her gaze. Past the scattered white and black which flecked the edges of her vision, the connection with someone beyond herself heaved her fury back to reality, and the world whooshed into clarity around her. The cry of her sister, the hoofbeats on the ground. The heavy throb of fury. The sickening clench of dread.

If Murdock had been any other wolf, he would have felt the score of her fangs against him, a justified punishment for getting in the way of protecting the only family she had left. But her sense of reason clutched to the greatest thing she knew of him - that he loved Steph, as though she was the blood of his blood - and this she knew so deeply that even in her heightened fury, she trusted him.

Nanook wanted to taste the blood of the bison, to spill the whole valley full, but with a deferential growl Nanook moved to follow Murdock's plan. She took a lope through the midst of the beasts and hoped he was right that this would distract the bison's attention and their movements away from Stone Circle and onto her and Murdock instead. And she, too, tried not to think of what they would find when the both of them returned from luring the herd far enough away.