Fingers were strong and controlled wrestled shortly before twisting off the third tooth from the white bleached skull of the wolf’s skull. Her crimson eyes turned to the next head on the pike and took in the hideous sight that met her. It was the first Dahlian wolf they had gotten down here in the very clan lands. Eyes had been gauged out by hungry birds along with most of the flesh that once had made out what the face had looked like when it had been whole. With skin and fur. The girl slowly walked over to the fresh head and looked it over. It was far from a pretty sight, and it did its job very well. She was certain that a young dirtbag of a canine would think twice before he or she entered the clan’s territory. There were so many foolish creatures out there. The young woman wondered if the general calm she had experienced lately was a natural part of the war. She had imagined intensive fighting and death. She knew there had been fighting, but she had not been there. Guilt mingled in with the disappointment. Today was merely yet another quiet day.
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