Fox's Glade i still feel stuck in my lungs

there'd been chaos. she'd not known the specifics of what had erupted, no adult seemed eager to share. just a kid, that's all they saw of her. 

she slithered past the watchful eyes of adults, her nose leading her toward the bloodied mess of piled bodies atop crimson stained snow. and her heart retched to the back of her throat. death — she'd not seen it, not smelled it before this. 

her stomach turned, but her eyes could not stray from the glistening scarlet in the moonlight. it was pretty, it's own twisted way. 

the stench of coyote still lingered and so she sought to follow it in the way they had entered. what if there were more? what if she could stop them? 

and so she went past the familiarity of the valley, past the comfort of the meadow. she would track them down and should there be any left, she would drag them back home with her to add upon the mass of slaughtered bodies. she would show them all — she's not just a kid anymore.

and nanuralaaq shared a similar idea. to search for the den that the putrid coyotes spawned from and to take them out at their source ; but they bred like rabbits, though the were savage like brutes, and scrawny like doe, with the teeth of wolves. an amalgamation of the worst parts of several species, and so when the huntress moved, she moved to follow the scent of a bearclaw wolf ; a child, rather than the coyotes.

a figure, small and youthful, caught the gaze of the snowwoman. the child, female, she thought, was decorated in mountainous shades ; deep navies, slate greys and pale whites. brown upon her legs, and soon to be seen upon her forehead, as well. nanuralaaq gave a low chuff to alert the girl of her presence. humour laced her tone when she said: you are quite the traveller, and there was no shame nor ridicule in the way rala spoke. instead, it was more akin to a friendly jab - a jest. an exaggerated joke came next:

dear vagabond, a bow ; an extended paw. do you come seeking glory?

she'd not gotten terribly far yet when the sound of a chuff alerted the girl to her unwanted company. not even for a moment could she be free of these valley wolves! she whirled around ready to snap at her pursuer with a clack of teeth, thinking it cole or another brutish man. but just as her turn was completed she caught the soft, feminine words of a woman instead. 

her bristled fur smoothed, if only slightly. 

zephyra gave a snort at the question, brows snapping together. "no," she decided after a beat, spinning back around to continue her tracking of the coyotes. she'd not come for glory, only recognition. 

"i've come for revenge."

revenge, said the girl, quite serious in her tone! this was no exploration of a child wishing for fun, but perhaps the journey of a warrior who wished to be seen. on the coyotes? nanuralaaq said, now, shedding the humorous tone that had just previously laced her words. they hurt a girl i know. i want to find them, too.

she pulled herself alongside the girl, now, matching her pace. i am nanuralaaq, eh, rala. are you a daughter of nephele? what is your name, nukik-ait? curious!

rala thought, then, that perhaps she may have a daughter of her own with warriors' spirit.

an approving rumble came from the girl as nanuralaaq spoke of her similar intention. zephyra searched for the coyotes for less heroic reasons, but perhaps having a companion while marching toward battle was not such a terrible idea. 

the girl's steps grew quieter, voice a softened whisper as the breeze brought forth a stronger musk of fresh coyote urine. they were getting closer now. 

"mmm, yeah," she mumbled in response to her mother, following up quickly with a low, "i'm zephyra." she never paused her approach or bothered to look toward the woman, far too invested with the reason she'd come out here to halt it all for some idle conversation. 

"think i've found a trail, smells like it anyway."