Haunted Wood I don't want your crowd

There seemed to be joy. There often was after the thrill of a kill. Vanity let herself smirk. She'd done well. But that joy seemed to vanish all too quickly as the girl stared at the broken bird.

"To kill means survival. This way." 
She knew some wolves had faulty thoughts about killing and some didn't at all, but they had to feed and it was only good to get it out of the head now when the thought was fresh and new. 
She started walking to show th girl the cache and ensure this one was clean and secure.
She uncovered the hole, the large rock easy enough for her to move with a good wiggle with her jaws and paws.
All seemed ok, and looked like it had been cleaned out.
"In there."