Fox's Glade i still feel stuck in my lungs

there'd been chaos. she'd not known the specifics of what had erupted, no adult seemed eager to share. just a kid, that's all they saw of her. 

she slithered past the watchful eyes of adults, her nose leading her toward the bloodied mess of piled bodies atop crimson stained snow. and her heart retched to the back of her throat. death — she'd not seen it, not smelled it before this. 

her stomach turned, but her eyes could not stray from the glistening scarlet in the moonlight. it was pretty, it's own twisted way. 

the stench of coyote still lingered and so she sought to follow it in the way they had entered. what if there were more? what if she could stop them? 

and so she went past the familiarity of the valley, past the comfort of the meadow. she would track them down and should there be any left, she would drag them back home with her to add upon the mass of slaughtered bodies. she would show them all — she's not just a kid anymore.