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

Amneris trailed after her sister as if in a fog, her own movements fluid and unhurried even as Athalia zigzagged and leapt and barked. Every so often her attention would drift back to her. Largely her gaze remained fixed to the sky. Perhaps it would not rain after all. The clouds were not as thick as they'd been.

When they reached their destination she finally pried her attention away from the heavens. She looked on the bones for a long moment, then to Athalia. Then the bones, again. A wolf. The remnants of a wolf.

She slid around the skeleton in silence, brushing her pelt over clean ribs and spine. Tufts of dark fur clung to it as she drew away, and Amneris reached out to pluck a bone of her choice from the pile. She wrenched it away from the rest and held it proudly in the air for Athalia to inspect.