Lyris braced herself, lean muscles pulling taught in preparation for movement. She pounced to the result of a rampantly squeaking lemming. She pressed her weight upon the small creature, and the squeaking ceased. Picking the rodent up with sharp, white fangs, she wandered to the creek that wound through the tundra like a ribbon. A few moments passed before she found a place to lie down on her belly and eat, and she was soon soothed by the gentle bubbling of the brook. The lemming possessed bones small enough that she could eat the entire animal, which she did, with the faint crunching sound of cracking bone as she chewed.
It was the fourth or fifth lemming she had eaten in the last hour. There was food in the caches of Wild Rye Fields, but it was scarce. The girl currently favored capturing as much food for herself as possible, leaving the cached morsels for her pack mates. Once she had finished the last of her snacks, she sighed in satisfaction and rested her head between her front paws, yellow eyes watching the water tumble and flow down over the rocky bed of the stream. Since joining Wild Rye Fields, the chocolate-furred girl had regained quite a bit of strength. Her hipbones were not as sharp and her coat was no longer coarse and ragged. The starved woman was slowly resuming the role of a beautiful maiden, but more importantly, she was happy. The wolves of the Fields had taken her in with grace and mercy, restoring her health and her once-saddened state of mind.
even my memories cannot drown me