Whitefish River the wires got the best of him

The taste of coyote blood was still in his mouth. He thought ripping it to pieces would assuage the burning rage inside his heart at the disappearance of his mate, but he still felt the same. He was glad the little bastard was dead, and it was even better that he had paid for his transgression with his life, but now as he walked from the plateau searching for signs that anyone else had made it out, he still felt like he was going to drown in his own despair. He hadn't even felt the coyote's teeth in his face during his fight, but now that the adrenaline had started to wear off, the deep punctures along his right cheek and under his jaw were starting to throb. 

Kavik had decided to check the river first, hoping that maybe his packmates would think to meet at one of their popular gathering spots. As he neared the water, a familiar scent filled his nose, and relief surged through the former alpha. The relief was short-lived, though, because he soon realized that he also scented blood. He tracked the dark female until he found her sitting near the river. He trotted over to her, immediately seeing that she was pretty badly wounded. Myrren, he said first, his tone anxious. Are you okay? He inspected her injuries more closely and silently cursed himself for not learning at least some first aid basics.