Bitterroot Valley your yelling's getting loud
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the grass rustled as her underbelly dragged along it, shoulders hunched so that her shoulder blades protruded like a pair of ugly, stunted wings. her pounce was swift, her failure swifter still as the marmot slid into a burrow unseen. an expletive tore from her lips with savage intensity, but the wolf's momentum did not pause. 

she threw herself into a stretched-out lope, thundering across the plain like a horse down a track. muscles sang and fury bled out with every breath, until she was no longer running out her failure but instead for the fierce joy of it.