11
Migration
Two days waxed and waned before they made it to the third pack’s den. Though Thalaea carried the injured wolf, it did not speed them up overmuch: the witch’s muscles were tired and she could not match her previous speed. Furthermore, the pregnant bitches, six to eight weeks along in their twenty-week pregnancies, each had a good waddle going.
Towards the end of the first day on the trail, Thalaea noticed her coat was covered with dried hounds’ blood. She’d noticed when she’d killed the dog, of course, but somehow after that she’d forgotten — it wasn’t as if she could take her coat off and shove it into her rucksack while the blood was wet. Once it dried, the fact that she was covered in blood had slipped her mind. None of the other wolves had made any comment about it.
She
