Hoshor Plains junebug, what have you done? [m]

"I didn't do that," Riley blurted several moments after Miriam sped to the scene. He had watched the grey waif speed off towards the babe -- both relieved, and heartsick -- that she seemed to know the bloodied child.

It made Riley think of Laurel. It made his blood boil and stomach drop.

"I found her like that." Riley reiterated, feeling a sense of ugliness overcome him. He could not explain what he had deduced from the puppy -- it was wrong, even balled up as an unspeakable idea on his tongue.

He didn't know what to do, and so, he was stupidly still sitting off to the side when another wolf arrived. Riley gave the male a wary glance, unwilling to stick around but too -- shocked? dimwitted? to skedaddle.

Riley could no longer see the child; why did he care? He couldn't explain the inexplicable feeling - but he, of all the wolves in this clearing, likely had the most terrible thing conceivable in common now with the small, terrified child. "Is she going to be okay?"