Fox's Glade why, why, why? to help my family?

Sarah was both a hunter and a scavenger - one role did not exclude the other, rather the circumstances told her, which path to choose at any given moment. Usually, when the hollow did not provide enough for her, she would leave it's confines and head out in the plains, browsing through her surroundings, watching, listening and picking up smells that wind brought with it, the scent paths various animals had left and the odours that evaporated from the earth itself. 

Today too she picked one - faint, but promissing - and followed it. The source was far away, sometimes she missed it and had to stop to find it away, at other places it was strong, making easy for her to follow it. The closer she got to her target, the clearer was the message the molecules of this particular perfume told her. Sickness. When this realization sank in, another face of Sarah's was awakened. One she did not wear often, one that was hidden in the darkest corners of her mind. One that was cold and rational, one that did not know mercy. One that was not above playing God. 

During her reign at her family pack, many lone wolves had stopped by and many had not seen the sun rise the next day. Sarah had seen threat in them and she had done, what she had believed was best for everyone, more importantly - her family. She was loyal to a flaw, you see, and she heard the calling of that voice now, as she narrowed down on the injured, emaciated sleeping form of the coywolf in the shade.

Sarah settled down and watched her quietly, making a decision that, if the nature did not finish the work, she should.