This was stupid. Pointless and stupid.

The squawk the stranger let out was satisfying, but it finally occurred to the dusky wolf that they were literally fighting over nothing at all. The marmot had taken its good fortune and disappeared ages ago. Even if she won, Little Crow wouldn't actually…win anything.

The woman's face bled and she lashed out blindly - she jolted sideways, barely escaping another bite. It was luck, or perhaps practice, that allowed the loner to slip away; so she decided to get while the getting was good. No winners or losers. No meal to eat. She was better off saving her energy for another hunt, another day.

Exit.