Greatwater Lake leg bones

When prey proved sparse in the mythical forest, Dauntless began to follow the river further inland, unaware that she was retracing her steps. She stuck close to the winding bank, oblivious when she passed the spire where she had confronted the burly black male. In spite of her wounds, she trekked tirelessly, driven forward by a hunger that sawed at her stomach and the bitterly cold sea wind that swept at her silver, prickling spine.

She slowed, then stopped, when she came upon the shore of a large, placid lake. She was not alone. Dauntless's yellow eyes narrowed slightly when she spotted the pewter male halfway around the other side of the partially frozen watering hole. He looked worse for wear, as if the winter had mercilessly beaten on him, and perhaps it had.

Obeying a feral impulse, Dauntless began to trot around the water's edge toward him, her lips skinning back from her teeth. She wasn't even starving, yet she could not deny that he looked like an easy target. Why should she treat a fellow wolf any differently than other viable prey? She shouldn't. Soon, she was running toward him full-tilt, a guttural growl rumbling up her throat.