Blackfoot Forest Watch this madness, colorful charade

Minna smiled at his accent, tail wagging. As he spoke, she lifted her muzzle from the carcass.
Minna glanced at the coyote. Leto was right, though it was abnormally small, the size of the foxes that had once 'graced' these forests. She nodded, but took another look at the creature. Something felt...off about it. She approached the rapidly cooling carcass, concerned. She put her nose near it's fur and drew in a breath, wrinkling it's muzzle. "Leto...something isn't right about it. I don't know, exactly, but something..."
She wondered what had made the coyote so brave as to approach a wolf, what had made it cross into the territory in the first place. In essence, something simply felt wrong. She sniffed the coyote again, noting the slight, but distinct unpleasent odour that hung over it. It's nose and maw seemed watery, moist, and it had an emicated appearence that was probably caused by the famine.