Hideaway Strath leave the bones alone

She turned to look at him, and her tail waved. Despite the circumstances, and somehow as though in spite of them (hateful as it was), her love for the man heightened. He had fought well, and his bloodied visage gave him the look of a warrior. And he was a warrior; she had fought by his side this day. New Snow had already made note to spar more with her man, so that they would fight even better the next time.

Hunting was not so different than fighting, but it could not be called the same. Territorial spats had been quicker than this; New Snow had never been so engaged with the enemy, nor gripped by one. The Clawan had a healthy respect for the man they had fought after it all.

An answering rumble filled the air. She sighed quietly as she leaned against him, accepting some support though even this stung. His tongue, too; her skin flinched, but she did not withdraw. Before they moved on, her tongue gently cleaned the places that Adlaratok had split her mates face. It seemed he was of the same mind; he cleaned the blood away from her eye that had clouded her vision beforehand.

She huffed in gratitude, and then they moved. New Snow coughed again, but with his support she moved better than she had moments ago.

The tracks they followed, and the snow around it, were rich with blood—it seemed to increase in volume the closer they drew. And up ahead lay the wolf! Sure that her man saw him, too, she bore her teeth but made no noise to warn the resting man of their approach.

New Snow did not yet see that he was already dead.