Elegist

The night was deep and wet and alive with the shifting shadows of willow fronds; sobbing bursts of rain filtered through the stringy haired willows, seeping like cold snakes across the spongy earth and into the lake. The rest of the pack was gathering slowly around her, hackles raised and long muzzles wrinkled in silent snarls, all of their verdigris eyes turned on the same point-- out of sight, but not out of scent-- just behind the clump of brambly azaleas. She was cold, and her joints hurt from crouching. She was towards the back; the ugly one made no kills of her own. She waited, she planned, and it was only by the will of the alpha she a