Morningside Cuesta enter, pursued by a memory

they had not felled any big game in weeks, and heda was beginning to become truly desperate. every spare moment of her time was spent hunting for @Dinah and @Ava Amara, but the snows were gathering in every part of the valley.
in hungry hyperfocus she went out again, this time keeping close to the bypass. in the early winter, older animals often died. even one carcass would stave off starvation for she and john and the girls.
an hour's hunt in the cuesta turned up nothing. it took needed energy to weep, and yet heda shed hot tears in silence as she turned back toward rivenwood, empty-pawed once more.
and then, shouting, such language as to turn her cheeks hot, and the shadow-smudged eyes searched for the owner of so vulgar a voice.