Shadow Mountain dig so deep for scars

Was it one of those days?
One of those days where all was right?

Not even close. In fact, it was one of those days where everything -And I mean everything- was going horribly.
And it felt so good. 

A cousin of his just died, a dirty mouthed little runt of a coywolf who's ancestry wasn't much in comparison to his own. But boy, oh boy, was it something absolutely awful that killed the fellow! "It was huge!" he began, horror placing itself across that chocolate face of his. "A horrible, no good, very bad wolf!" A shaked head ripped the words apart as he continued across the base of mountains who's name he hadn't cared to learn. "He was evil, ripping the kid apart, and I swear to god he had a smile on his face while he did it." The audience gasped as he was so sorrowful in this story. So terrible was this deed, poor coywolf who was murdered. "But here's the twist," he added to flavor up the story. "nobody knows who did it, and even nobody-er knows where the body went." The shocked silence blew away the terrified ones who listened to him, and the stick-shaped three-year-old shook his head at the invisible crowd. "I know! What a shocker."

He had absolutely no idea what he was even talking about.
But that little voice in his head, did. It knew exactly what and who he was referring to. A little wolf he had met on his travels, someone by the name of Todd,...or was it Tim? The cute little friend needed a friend, and there he was! Scarecrow was right there for him, friendly and all, smiles and things. And they became...
friends.

But time went on, and on, and on, and before the day had turned to nigh, Little Tommy-Tim was nowhere to be seen. Scarecrow looked everywhere for the itty bitty friend, but found no one. Was a shame. A real shame. A shame indeed, as there wasn't more than one of Timmy-Tom, as Scarecrow had helped himself to drowning and eating the child.
It had started with S'crow claiming the kid should try his paw at fishing...
And whether he meant to or not, S'crow just blanked out! Blacked out! And assumed he was eating a fish! Well, he chewed, and chewed, but the mocha warlock couldn't tell the difference then and there. Tasted like fish, he told himself - and tasted pretty damn good.
But as he looked down, someone looked up; the mangled body of this Tommy-Tim-Tim.

Oh well.
Friends were meant to be made and eaten, he supposed as he continued his trek around the mountains.

Icy topaz scanned the land around where he loped leisurely.
Where, oh where would he find another?