Kildeer Rest mythology

diesel's eyes had glazed over with memory of wrapping paper dripping with burger grease, and she was sharply sucking in excess saliva as she stalked around the perimeter. were it not for a cowdeer quite obviously noticing something and herding away mini versions of itself, she would have been efficiently snuck upon.

blessed beef helped to turn her head, focus her gaze and see a gangly, white thing approaching. 

immediately, her mind shot forward a telepathic message; fuck off.

the mastiff's tail raised, and she straightened herself. the wolf seemed here explicitly to start shit, and diesel wouldn't stand for it. not when the cold weather was beginning to cut under her skimpy summer coat.