Broken Boulder the slow approach of the sun

Ione’s bark startled the wolf, who dropped her dead rats. Ione’s muscles tensed, ready for some kind of retaliation, but none came. The young wolf found her and, instead of being angry, simply greeted her. Ione was suspicious at once. This could be a trap. Make her feel comfortable, make her think they were friends, then kill her when her defenses were down. The young wolf was now gesturing towards one of the rats she had dropped, asking if she wanted it. Ione glared at the wolf. “I am no fool,” she hissed. Still, she was never one to pass up free food. “Move away, or toss it to me. I will come no closer.” She did not want to become a wolf’s chew toy today.