You can't spell slaughter without laughter

It was getting too crowded. Another wolf showed up, trying to scare them off. What a brave soul. Her pelt soaked in the blood of the fall wolf, matting it together. Lips twitched in a faint snarl. The bitch was dead, this was too much trouble. She stepped away from the mangled carcass, she would wash up later. With a low growl she turned away from the group, following in the tracks of Baxter, leaving the scene of the murder. Her front paws left red imprints as the snow washed away the blood from her pelt before they finally vanished, along with the gray she-wolf.

-exit cat-