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Her muscles ticked like a cooling engine as she rested there, catching her wind. A few minutes into her respite, she noticed some large birds circling overhead. Her copper eyes tracked their effortless movements as they drifted on the air currents. Her gaze dropped when a flock of smaller birds burst into flight a lot closer at hand: on the other side of the ridge. Even from a distance, she could hear their indignant caws! of protest.

Intrigued by this, Harps sprang back onto all fours and began to pick her way toward the source of the disturbance. When she came upon a she-wolf standing near a buck’s carcass, Harps drew up short, a foreleg dangling in midair. Her eyes cut sideways when she saw a small, dark male in her peripheral vision. Licking her chops nervously, she lowered her tail and began backing away from the scene. Much as she would’ve loved to feed on the dead (or dying?) deer, she didn’t want to press her luck against two strange wolves.