Swiftcurrent Creek I am not a martyr, I'm a problem

Mae couldn't see the gesture, but she figured out she was probably meant to follow after a few seconds of standing in bewildered silence. The scent of death lingered where the woman led her, death and strange wolves. No sign of her father, though — or anyone else she knew. Mae's ears flattened to her skull, but she didn't say a word. Instead she pushed past the woman to sniff around, to follow the scent of blood.

What the fuck... she mumbled, casting a suspicious glance over her shoulder; entirely for show, of course, given she couldn't see shit. Mae wasn't even sure she was glaring at the right spot. She wanted answers — and this had only given her more questions.