Blacktail Deer Plateau heffalumps and woozles

Her Outrider mission had ended in failure; Atticus and Ty were still nowhere to be found. The pack's most recent hunt had also been a failure as well, leaving the already rawboned juvenile hungry. And Junior's rash — or whatever it was — was spreading. She could feel the dry, cracked skin on and around her lower lip. It hurt. She entirely avoided reflective surfaces, terrified of seeing her own ugly image.

Presently, Junior lay flopped over a mossy log, sulking and contemplating the drudgery that was her life lately. After a while, she let out a great, gusty sigh and let her chin sink to her crossed forepaws. She began to chew her lip without even being aware of it.