Twisted Slough the ground beneath us is shaking, the sheep are finally waking

Riley had first been preoccupied with Masque -- until a dart of silver stole across his periphery.

He had just enough time to register coyote before Masque made a bid for his attention again, this time clambering on solid ground to fruitlessly wipe the dirt from her legs. There was no coming off, he decided -- and was about to make a joke about going back to the ocean when he saw her face change.

Stricken was the word he'd use; she was looking at something, then recoiling. Riley instantly closed the gap, forgetting entirely about the coyote. There in front of them both was something dark and misshapen - he attributed it to a body immediately, but the pervasive scent surrounding him told him it was something more.

Is that -- He stopped, glancing back to Masque in shared horror. As a wolf, one got used to seeing bodies -- but seeing a friend putrefy in the dirt was something different.