The Tangle but if this changed your life did you have one before

after the first spatter of red, with no life to drive it, the bleeding slows to a trickle. caw’s front paws are already stained, a thick red visible even against the black of his fur, and his muzzle is so dark with it the tooth-marks are nothing approaching visible. he gulps down mouthfuls of flesh and organ as avis picks her own meal, and but for the sounds of tearing meat it is quiet, for a moment.
 
so when the soft chuff sounds out behind him, it is easy to hear.
 
caw’s ears flick, curious. for a moment he thinks perhaps it is a relative of the wolf lying at his paws, but he has rarely seen family approach such a scene and simply greet the one that has caused it, even if it is clear proof of their weakness. he lifts his muzzle, licking at the crimson staining his fur, and turns, blood-bright eyes gleaming as he scans the gnarled underbrush.
 
the woman he sees is no more difficult to pick out from the bush than the coywolf was. she is larger, even, all shades of woody brown, but caw cares little for the color of fur – what is more curious is the strange thing wrapped around her neck.
 
meal forgotten, caw immediately beelines for her, eyes locked on the object.
 
“aspice!” caw chirps. the rustle of wings behind him is noted and forgotten just as quickly as he draws as close as possible, blood-soaked muzzle aiming to press directly against the collar as though there is no wolf attached to it at all.