Razorback Ridge arsonist's lullabye

Grezig had made her way up the side of another mountain and down into a valley the day before. Now, on the morning of the second day, she stood on the opposite ridge, looking down into the valley, back towards Mount Apikuni, intending to go back. She did not ever go farther than a day or two from the place where the group was settled at the time. This was probably the farthest she had ever traveled from them, and it made her anxious. Besides, she did not want to continue standing on this ridge. Her paws kept slipping and her legs were stiff with the effort of holding herself up. This ridge had no footholds and no vegetation to help with traction.

She began slipping and sliding her way back down into the valley, but turned sharply at the smell of blood. It was animal blood, not wolf blood, but it still alarmed her. She forced herself farther upwards onto the ridge, wincing as the rock bit into her paw pads, and saw a white wolf approaching with a deer leg in its mouth. Well, that explained the blood. As a courtesy, she chuffed at the wolf, waiting to see if he would want a conversation or not. Some wolves were incredibly food-territorial (like she was) and she didn’t want to stick around if he was going to be growling at her just for looking at the leg. She did not want it, but he wouldn’t know that.