Bitterroot Valley I miss the misery

A thick, vile scent had been in her nostrils for days now. It made her instincts flare up, and put her in a more pissed-off mood than she was in by default, especially because she couldn't recognise what the damn thing was.

Thanks a ton, dear ancestors, for making alarm bells blare in her head and not telling her what the threat is.

She was in a big valley now, had been for some time. The flatland made her uneasy, as did the fat clouds overhead. She wasn't bred for this outdoorsy shit, as was evident in her flea bitten coat and gaunt waist.

There was a figure in the distance. Diesel squinted. It was big, real fucking big, too big to be a dog. Still, the single pea she had for a brain needed a moment too long to recognise what it was before she called out "Hey!", her bark carrying over the plain.

It was a wolf.

Thanks a ton, ancestors, thanks a ton.