Stone Circle and i shall never care to build again

She's wandering when she hears it; she thinks it sounds broken, pleading. A cry for help to the child's ears. It's not another wolf, but she follows the sound anyway. Her heart beats fast, but she's curious and a little worried, and maybe she can help. Or, more accurately, maybe mom can help.
She's too young to fully understand what she finds. At first she can't really tell what it is — it's bloody and broken, and she may not know much but the angle of the body seems wrong. It's a rabbit, she realizes. She's seen these, but only dead. Her approach is slow and uncertain, limbs trembling.
Another high, keening noise comes from the creature and startles her. She jumps back with fur fluffed, but the new development only sets her back a few moments; she stares a bit and approaches again, just as slowly. Dying, she thinks, watching the twitch of its limbs and the quiver of its small mouth; this is dying. She sits near to the rabbit, so near her fur brushes against it, and she wonders.