Squinting in the sun, still eyeing where the Alpha had fallen, Gerty was thankful for nature. Like some pathetic cop-out, she hoped it’s help would alleviate her conscience a bit. All she had to do was kill the healthiest, the most powerful in the packs. And the other predators in the area would rapidly capitalize on these actions and complete her job.
Finished with her canteen and handkerchief, Gerty places them inside her pack. Zipping the pocket closed. She wraps her arms through the straps and stands in one fluid motion. Setting her cap on her head, she then bends over and picks up her rifle from where it was resting on the ground. Carrying it against her shoulder, her dry, chalky hike down the butte begins.
