The Sentinels Boarfish

A familiar odor threaded into her nose, though Towhee wasn’t interested in hunting right now. She paused in a bar of moonlight piercing through the treetops, salted shoulders sagging a little. Perhaps a wild pig had ventured past her sleeping spot, rousing her.

Towhee turned, prepared to wander back to her makeshift bed. She wondered if it might still be warm. She didn’t hear the soft woof behind her, though a new scent joined the porcine smell on the slight breeze. It belonged to a wolf, that realization prompting her to turn her head and comb her dark surroundings again.

Her orange eyes fixed on two blue ones glittering in the darkness like a pair of sapphires. Towhee rapidly pivoted to face the skulking figure, trying to pluck out details despite the dark. She could only make out a shaded face above a paler chest.