Meadowlark Prairie Lovely and provocative butcher paper silhouettes of slavery era self-mutilation

Sorry for the delay! Yell at me next time

A pause. The lad was unsure, and so would she if she were him. Getting used to neighbors was new to her also; especially for him since the youth were always told to stay away from everyone outside of the pack.
So many pup-snatchers these days.

"Nightwalkers are overrun." 
It was no lie. Far too often she'd found caches looted by the opportunists and it made her wonder if the nightwalkers even had Mercenaries anymore.
She could try hunting them at night to feed the pack, though.
A good idea she'd soon implement.
"I'll try and help you with tracks. In the winter, prints ice over then get covered by fresh snow. If we're lucky, there will be some." 
Prints were the way to go in winter. Easy to follow once you get the trail and saved your nose for the harder parts, or from getting carried away.

She moved forward, looking at the freshly covered track. She licked away the snow to reveal the dragging gait. It can't be far.