ADemonsFate

A wolf, a great off-black creature, stared at a small bundle of flesh and bone.  It was dying and it cried for its life.  The wolf locked silver orbs upon the thing; a newborn kit that smelt of milk and raw, primal terror.  Tearing her eyes from the crying thing, the wolf (Rite was her name) turned her hunter's gaze to another pile of fur and flesh.  This one was larger and the scent of it curled Rite's lips; blood and human and lead.  Had Rite looked closer, she would have noticed a round, weeping wound in its head and milk in its belly. 'Mother, Mother', The kit cried. With a frown, Rite snapped her jaws and the crying thing was silenced.