Head for the northern packs, Seeker had said, and so she had ventured north.
The siblings were nearby, she knew. Within howling distance, surely; every so often she would throw up a howl for one or the other, just for the relief of hearing their voices, the reassurance that they were near. It was how she had traveled with Sonya for years, and it was good to know that Seeker was picking up on their rhythms and habits without much trouble.
Family had surprising things in common, sometimes.
Just now, she was on her own, though—eager for a bit of solitude, a chance to work out some of the frustrations that had build up under her skin and rumbled down in the depths of her. Her heat left her agitated, restless. Wanting to run, and fight, and no amount of wrestling and rough-housing with her sister was going to alleviate this specific ache.
Agitating. But, by now, a familiar enough sensation. She knew well enough that she could simply ride it out, with a bit of patience and distraction.
She hadn’t realized where her paws were taking her until she had arrived. It looked different now, of course, blanketed in snow, but her body remembered the location well. Where she had been reunited with her brother. Where she had taken a life.
The snow was disturbed, near where she had buried the body, and she wandered over to investigate.
The grave itself had not been breached, but there were signs of digging. Tracks around it, too. Her eyes narrowed, ears going back slightly. Coyotes? Scavengers, nosing about where they didn’t belong. She should have buried the body a bit deeper, but at the time they had been rushed. At the time, she had been sore, and exhausted, and overwhlemed, and there had been injured wolves with her. The ground had been cold.
The coyotes had not broken through more than the topsoil, but she thought it best not to take chances. Klass had been a murderer; he had tried to kill her brother; but he had fought them with surprising resilience and courage. He had left behind a mate. He deserved peace in his afterlife, not to be picked apart by coyotes.
Stones. There was a river nearby. She could move some stones over and pile them onto the dirt. And then perhaps she would trail the coyotes, see if one were close…that could be a nice distraction. Teach them a lesson. Keep her reflexes sharp. She had not hunted a coyote in a long time.
Resolved to this new plan, she started toward the river, looking for the largest stones she could carry in her mouth.
Aug 25, 2017 07:37 PM
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