Otter Creek i sank to the ocean floor

It wasn't much - maybe enough for a black bear, but she was much larger than her puny cousin. Before long the beast tired of the work and settled, sprawling on her chest and reaching her forelimbs out as if the dirt desired a hug; one arm sank in the creek water, the other puverlized a path through the grass.

Her snout was brown with mud; in the daylight perhaps it would be red, but she would be patient and see. The same color would no doubt stain her chest and underside, some form of warpaint that would dry and cake, but for now she was enjoying the cool sensation. It was nowhere near the same feeling as ice; but she was never going to see ice again. The thought was depressing — but the wolf, bless her tiny heart, the wolf was bringing her a gift.

The fish was dropped before her. As bold as this wolf had been to intervene earlier, it was bolder still to bring food - to offer it, to treat her like some sort of pet. Curious. Perhaps if Kilalurak was feeling differently, she would be insulted. The fish was a puny offering but it was an offering nonetheless, and brought her back to the days when she - and her ilk - were worshipped.

She swept her face forewards and grabbed the fish as it was mid-twitch. Her teeth sank in tot he head, severing it mostly, spurting fresh blood through her teeth and down her chin so that the clay-red became true red; she savored the feeling of the fish head on her tongue for a moment, then canted her skull back, and caught the body, swallowing the entire fish whole.