Kintla Flatlands pussyfoot

When the adults returned from the hunt empty-handed, Junior trotted away into the forest in search of either small prey or a cache—whichever turned up first. She licked her chops, her stomach pinching with hunger. She hadn't had a bite to eat since catching a vole on her way back from the creek. She felt tired and knew she couldn't do any exploration until she put away a decently sized meal.

She stumbled over one of the plateau's hidden stockpiles and helped herself to a stiff, dead hare. Hunger sated but stomach still burbling with dissatisfaction, Osprey loped toward the borders and dropped into the flat lands. She hoped to rustle up some grub on the plain, knowing that small animals like mice kept nests in the long grass.

A foul odor struck her suddenly. Following her nose around the natural curve of the plateau, she stopped suddenly when she came across the corpse of a wolf. Her heart jumped into her throat. He didn't look like anybody she knew; he had thick agouti fur and yellow eyes. There were no signs of violence on the body. She stood frozen, torn between moving closer to investigate and backing away from the glassy-eyed cadaver.