Redsand Canyon better than to let it fester

She was in a foul, rotten mood. Thoughts of abandoning Mereo pecked her brain. It would be so damn easy to pick a direction and walk away, wake up the next day a free woman, no-one's subordinate. And yet, what would be the benefit? Brachycephaly and short legs made her a poor hunter, smooth coat couldn't protect from the winter. Awful weather was the obstacle between herself and freedom.

Maybe in spring, it'd be easier to leave.

The mastiff laid and snoozed, her mental faculties overworked by planning. In sleep, Diesel remained ignorant to the wolf who exited the cave mouth not forty feet away from she.