Boartusk Heights I eat boys up, breakfast and lunch.

whatever victory caiaphas envisioned when she had grabbed the cougar's paw was fleeting; with awful, lethal grace the cat had spurned her wounded advances and then, as soon as caiaphas had rallied herself for a third attempt, had simply jumped clear of the clumsy trio and disappeared.

the cat appeared to have the good sense caiaphas lacked; feeling overwrought with numbing fatigue and the sharp contrast of sense-heightening pain, caiaphas' tired gaze swept from niamh to the unknown wolf who had offered aide to them at the cost of great injury. she studied the she-wolf's wounds, and drew herself up with a wincing inhale. she would not admit it, but that third body had likely spelled their triumph rather than their death -- somehow, three wolves was unarguably far more favorable than two.

niamh had already lauded the bloodied companion for her assistance, so caiaphas remained silent; it was her gaze that spoke for her, and seemed to briefly hold a rare shade of gratitude in those virulent yellow spheres.