Bearclaw Valley in the end i danced with a ghost

vail hadn’t noticed eyes pinned to her. she just kept walking, or more staggering, shoulders slouched as she went.
head lowered between two muscled shoulders and her scrawny frame coiled with tension from a terrible night of sleep.
or lack there of.
when she finally looks up, its with eyes snapping onto a staring wolf. a girl, similar to her in frame—and vail fixes her with a narrowed look and a deadpan lip. what? she asks.