Bearclaw Valley They'll cover the hills with their sweet flesh and soft nails

Athalia had something to show her.
She lollops in a zig-zag before settling on a solid straight line, tail dragging behind her. Every now and again she glances behind to search for Amneris.
Going, going, and then a sudden stop, head lowered, ears swivelled forward; she stretches her spine before she leaps up with a big, feverish bark. Look!
Entwined with the last of summer's blooms are the skeletal remains of an adult wolf — intact, save for the head.