Bitterroot Valley you caught me staring off the cliff again

The scent of blood was all too familiar. Wolf’s blood, no less—as harsh as sunlight in her eyes. She saw it clinging to a strange she-wolf’s haunches, barely hidden by vivid purple blooms. Sienna knew the smart thing to do would be to look away and keep walking.

Unfortunately, she made eye contact with the blood-stained wolf, who now knew she was here. Too late. The russet yearling hadn’t exactly been trying to hide; even if she had, it would’ve been difficult to disguise her presence in these fields, no matter how small and scrappy dainty and petite she was.

What the hell happened to you? Did you sit on a bear? Sienna asked, nose wrinkled with a frown. She kept a cautious distance for now.