Bitterroot Valley iv. loneliness

she could not help the careful rise of her hackles as he came close but it was only in fear that he would rip open her other side.  she sniffed deeply, trying to detect his emotions.  concern.  why was this creature worried about her?  she had, after all, tried to kill him.

but she supposed, so long as he kept this up it would be behind them now.. so long as the screeching wretch did not make an appearance.

she smoothed down with ease once she was satisfied he would not take her throat, and she rolls over to her other side so he can inspect the thinning fur of her barely distended abdomen, the gaping gashes along her side.  if he would look at her face he would see the lacerations from laurel, and she smelled strongly of other wolves.  a lot of other wolves and most notably, none of them were xan.

her tongue parts from her delicate mouth and licks the bottom of his chin, still close to her body, before batting at his face with a playful paw.  forgive me.