Permafrost Hollows maybe there is damnation

Indra centered and wheeled about, her tongue lolling from her mouth, chasing the birds until they were out of reach and then spinning again to run as they baited her repeatedly. She knew she couldn't catch them and didn't care.

Colt called to her and so she pulled to a stop, as a sled dog might when issued an order, and then gave up her game. The slovenly girl approached the carcass and circled it next, seeking a spot that was ripe but not too far gone; far from the man too, in case his mood shifted.

The meat was sour but it would do the job of filling her up.