OUR KILL. I’d like to say that assertion came from my wolf only. But Claw’s rejection made me more bloodthirsty than I’d ever been.
It was only a deer, and I was angry. Hurt and confused and ready to hunt.
Whoever drove our shared body, rage was a fine fuel. We caught up with Claw and overtook him. Bounded down into a gully where the deer had likely holed up just after dawn.
A doe...and her fawn. The latter was half-grown, spots faded but legs much shorter than its mother’s. Deer and offspring startled as we burst upon them, the smaller animal struggling as it rose to its feet.
The scent of blood here was overwhelming. As if the mother had licked the wound on her child’s leg to clean it, thus restarting the bleeding that had led us to this spot.
But the fawn wasn’t too hurt to flee fr
