Bitterroot Valley she said it didn't seem like that long ago

The grass had whispered to the wind, which relayed the message to Miska's senses - a hunt was afoot. The smell of blood followed the urgent sounds of an ambush, and then there was only the sound of wet, ragged breaths. Disguised by shadows and thick brush, the dark wolf enjoyed Angel Oak'a efforts with closed eyes and flared nostrils.

"Cruel woman," he piped up, a little too cheerily  when the doe began to fade. The singing wolf was watching her prey bleed out when Miska detached from the shadows. "Letting deer living so long with knowledge of she is dead. Miska only do this for wolf. " He grinned his shark grin.