Wapun Meadow dripping in rot

What had she expected to find in this valley?

Not this, surely. Marina drifted nearer to the meeting of three wolves with her ears tilting forward tentatively. She recognized none of them — for the moment. New knowledge had bestowed upon her a new caution which she carried close to her chest. There was more life than her own to protect now, after all. Twice a mother, thrice now, she was certain of it.

Such thoughts were never far from her mind. Perhaps that was what sparked a flicker of recognition behind her eyes in the moment before the wind shifted and brought her the bloodied man's scent. Her ears flattened. For a second she considered turning away, leaving him to whatever fate he might find here. It was no business of hers. He deserved to die, didn't he?

Instead she stepped toward him, carried by a will not her own. She moved quickly to place herself between the man and the bristling others. Marina held her head high, regarding the pair with a challenge in her dark blue eyes, but said nothing. Not yet. Let them speak first, if they wanted his hide so badly. Let them be the first to put forth a claim.

They would find that, whatever their reasons, her own outweighed them a thousandfold.