Luneshale Pass Realization grew on me

Wolf.

Or something of the sort. Something canine. The shale was scratched over by nails. Fresh white scratches piled sand that had yet to be fully blown off by the winds. Legend sunk into the darken lands with a low body. Slinking, slinking, cackling with a feral whine and swishing a lowly tail. 

Maybe the coyotes had found their way close to akashingo. She couldn't tell. There was only a burning scent up her nose, and the comparison of pressed paw prints against the likes of the imp's own. Dwarfed by some, and not by others. They could've been a very large fox's. It was frustrating in a way that drew out gritted breaths, not understanding and not knowing. But she enjoyed life best by slithering into a lions mouth.

A paw lifted, and she limped.