The Sentinels burn it all away

It has been some time since the creature has seen anything larger than a rat, save for the carrion birds that would attend to her displays of crimson artistry. Sometimes these, too, would become a piece of her work; she wondered if the movement that she detected was of something larger and more formidable, something which she could set her knife-like teeth in to. Something that would finally satiate the otherwise indomitable hunger and rage within her. Alas, as she stopped her lurching, the object drifted in to view — a wolf. A girl.

The creature's snout flared in the manner of a disgruntled bear; she felt the hot breath escape and watched it form a thin cloud, which dissipated. The beast did not move to intercept, but stood and waited, watching for signs of weakness — as if that, alone, would give her cause to rise. In studying the figure, the beast saw how they moved among the broken things of the forest. They were careful, as if disturbing the remains might awaken something deeply forgotten.

The beast felt something touch upon one of her small ears. Then another, a tiny tapping, along her back, among the wood — as a light rain began to spit.