Blacktail Deer Plateau One With The Dirt

Grayday lingered near the den's entrance, stone-faced and wary. His ears were pressed forward atop his skull, waiting for a run-down of the situation, but more and more, simply waiting for Heartha to die. The wet sound of the woman's cough and the desperate edge to her mate's voice were all the clues he needed.

This was it.

Suddenly, he did not feel guilty for keeping Heartha from his pups. Suddenly, he was glad that they'd never known the woman, and that her loss would sting of injustice, but not with this terrible, heart-wrenching sorrow that creeping quickly through the leader's chest.