Swiftcurrent Creek Its been one week since you looked at me

he got her to the meat, that fucker, and now her own rotten blood was stuck to her tongue, but fuck it all -

gun could wait no more.

it was not with any subtlety or stealth or even basic fucking grace that she came trough the wood, trough those sparse thickets what choked the creek and its shit-and-guts muddled shore. ballsy (@Akavir) and balls-less (@Arric) and that third limping dishrag among them (@Mother) would know her by the scent of her pungent discharge and blunt-headed forward charge.

but she needed find red. to please tarsnout, if she needed pick a reason. own possessive stubbornness guided her fine enough.

her wrinkles stirred the ground scents to her flattened muzzle, and led her on a wild scentchase, avoiding some and following another. when a reek of untended wounds found her nostrils, she needed only follow...

...and find her.

"-red!" the dog woofed, panting, snorting.