Lost Creek Hollow ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year

she wished to argue gently with the other, to insist she take something all the same, but mona found she did not have the energy even for a friendly confrontation. "about three months," mona murmured between bites, self-conscious to eat in front of someone not also having a meal. "the pack in which i lived, bearclaw valley, dissolved, and we joined the hollow to survive."
finished, the mayfair willed the meat to stay put, blinking murkwater eyes at her companion. "you're new," she observed lightly. "what brought you here?"