Bitterroot Valley she had been forced into prudence in her youth,

Imaq nodded along with Mahler, offering a small but wry grin at his commentary. At his question, the Aussie turned and squinted at the distant brown blips of the herd as they flickered subtly with small movements. "Jah, Imaq see one. It's leg," she explained as best she could when she turned back to the silvered shadow, giving a tiny shake of her head to signify its leg was lame. A hobbled ankle, she'd thought when she'd first seen it.

"Imaq show Mahler," she both suggested and promised as she trotted back towards the herd, moving in a southeastern direction so as to loop around and come upon the grazers downwind, hopefully avoiding spooking them. Her tuliped auds gave a slight flicker as she left, as if straining to make sure that the Rivenwood wolf followed.