Whitefish River Out of the dark

For @Lilah

She couldn't believe it. She was part of a pack again. Her dark jaws clenched firmly together, teeth grinding. She had swore never to again! Never! Not after what she had been through. But oh she had to just go and gotten herself sick, didn't she? And this was the price she paid.

With a low grumble and slitted eyes, Tzila stalked along the shore of the great river, head low between her shoulders. She contemplated her circumstances. Her many days of recovery spent in self-isolation...the kind nursemaid Olive. The putrid scent that now clung to her dark pelt. She really ought to be counting her lucky stars she landed where she did. They were a kind group of wolves...perhaps too kind.

She felt well enough at last, to emerge from her own private den and venture beyond the territory. To take a shot at hunting something of her own. Something fresh...that wasn't rotting. The winding river looked promising. It was lengthy, with various depths and speeds of turbulence. She huffed at the memory of having grown up by a coastline. Fishing was in her blood, but she didn't particularly practice it often. Picking a spot that was as good as any by the rushing water, she dipped a paw in and flipped something shiny out. Not a fish...but just a damn pebble on her first try. Tzila sneered, impatient.