She squints down at the bloody thing, furry brow knit. The head lolls onto its side. An eyeless socket stares up at the starry night sky. An impatient growl erupts from the back of my wolf’s throat. He nudges the head with his snout, shoving it closer to her wet, dirty paws. Careful not to make too sudden of a move, she wriggles backward. He rumbles, lifts his right paw, and sets it on Smith’s caved in forehead. He cocks his head. Her eyes narrow. He rumbles louder. She tosses her head, and then she prowls forward, carefully, and gives the head the barest sniff and a gingerly poke with the
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