Whitefish River now they see my blood on their sneakers

The tail came away easily enough, just a simple twist and pull was all it took - these wolves had such feeble bodies. He was content with this prize, and made more enamored by the entire experience when the wolf spun to face him; he must have been in a state of shock from the trauma of it all. Soon the wolf would be staggering from blood loss; Zugzwang was interested to see that. He was tempted to linger and to test the limits of this wolf and his ruined body - but with the tail clutched in his teeth, he was also satisfied with the ruin he'd wrought. Perhaps the wolf would bleed out and die there, in the snow. Perhaps he would escape from this event and continue his life with a piece missing — that was a tempting thought too, one that Zugzwang eventually chose for him. He would not give chase to this ruined, worthless, pitiful wolf; he would let him live (should fate prevail) and let him continue living, knowing he was bested. The cat was grinning around the lump of bloodied fur and bone, but he did not give chase - instead he began to laugh, deep and mirthful, as he lunged around the wolf and away.