Kintla Flatlands the body

"My leftovers?" she disbelieving exclaimed while wrinkling her nose. What sort of sick game was this? Any wolf worth their hide knew that eating their own kind was a taboo. Maybe these mutant wolves didn't have a lick of sense, either. It seemed pretty likely that they were equally as insane as the stockier bitch that attacked her. No doubt if Saena thought about it too long, she would find herself going in circles trying to figure out if Twister's words were meant to deceive or if it really had been another of their ilk who had done this.

The brindled one growled at her and Saena slicked back her ears and snarled right back. "You sick fucks. Maybe you should go find your friend who killed this wolf, maybe she'll feed your sorry, cannibalistic asses, but you can fuck right off of this one." When it came down to it, she knew she would run—did she really have any other choice?—but there was a small, fiery streak in her that thought she might be able to bluff her way out of this situation, and prevent this wolf's body from being desecrated any further than it already was.