Swiftcurrent Creek the aftermath

Lissome—thin, she worked at the frozen ground, rump hovering the air, a pleasant sight for the man despite his misgivings. A dry lump formed in his throat, the bird only encouraging him to gag at that moment, though he held back—she prepared as she-wolves did when their nature drove them to do so for their littles, and taking this as confirmation, the man would begin forward, crooning softly to her, coaxing her from her current task.

Dropping the prey, he would nose it to her, muzzle lifting then to sniff over her, ensuring all delicate hairs upon her cherished head were just in place before he would sidle forward, looking to pick up the task she had been doing while she ate, if she so pleased.