Redhawk Caldera I'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry

a great cleft in the earth in the middle of which she stood, the night all around deathly quiet. she had fled far after that man had come and stolen away her blood, never had she thought she would return again, not here. but perhaps it was chance, or the bold hope that she would find shadow-made-flesh here once more. but for whatever reason, here once again had the winds of chance blows her, and in this great crack in the earth, she had caught. 

the wolf steps lightly over the crumbled stone and dust, feels the earth shift and settle beneath even her feather-light weight. the cut is fresh, and like them, the earth bleeds; here and there fall earth and rock, the sounds eerie in the silent cleft. she pauses, nosing something sharp and metallic.  some creature found its end here, and some scavenger has ensured it did not go to waste.