Duck Lake trapdoor

She kept backpedaling, keeping her yellow eyes fixed on the prostrate figure. But it made no more movements, laying deathly still even as Haunt's gaze bored into it. Whatever had animated it—a final breath? a neurological misfire? posthumous gasses?—did not repeat. She was fairly certain it was actually dead as first suspected.

Movement out of the corner of her eye made Haunt snap her head in its direction, all the fur along her neck, shoulders and spine prickling. She eyeballed the swarthy wolf with cropped ears, who stared right back at her as if equally spooked. Eventually, she blinked a few times, her attention swinging back and forth between the (probably) dead cougar and her fellow wolf like a pendulum.