Heron Lake Plateau We might fall in love- or fall apart

There couldn't have been too many elk in the herd- maybe 6 or 7, not a fully blown herd of elk which would consist of more than Niamh could count. She remembered, vaguely, seeing a real herd of elk when she'd been young- of course, it had been after the mothers had dropped their calves and when Niamh was old enough to be taken to the plains to see them. Her father had explained to her and her brother that the cow elk were particularly aggressive that time of year, but that if enough confusion could be caused to separate a calf from its mother, they would make for a relatively easy meal. 

She stayed on the track, but found herself slowing to a halt when a particularly foul stench wafted her way. At first, it smelled like something one ought not step in- so she looked around to see if maybe she'd been careless with her footing- but it was no such case. The scent got stronger and stronger, and she stiffened when she heard another wolf approaching, and sniffed furiously, scowling as she did so- eyes widening as she realized over the swamp-stench, who the wolf was, but it was already too late for her to backtrack. Screech, looking bedraggled and dirty, crossed her path not too far ahead of her, and she hissed in distaste, pulling her lips over her teeth and doing her best not to inhale as she glared at him.