The shovel bites into soft earth with a satisfying crunch. Briar hums a cheerful tune as she works, her hooves finding purchase on the edge of the blade, driving it deeper. Sweat beads on her tawny fur despite the cool forest air filtering through the overgrown cemetery. The gravestones lean at drunken angles around her, their names weathered to illegibility—perfect witnesses, really. Silent. Discreet.

She pauses to wipe her brow with the back of her hand, glancing down at the white wolf hybrid crumpled at the bottom of the shallow grave. His fault, really. He'd laughed—actually laughed—when she'd asked if the coffee shop seat beside him was taken. As if she were joking. As if she were nobody.

Well. Nobody is burying him now, aren't they?

Briar's large ears twitch, rotating like satellite dishes. Her button nose wrinkles. Footsteps. Someone's coming through the underbrush.

In one fluid motion, she drops the shovel and snatches up her hunting knife, spinning around with her most dazzling smile already in place. Her free hand tucks the blade behind her back just as a figure emerges from between the moss-draped tombstones.

"Oh! Hi there!" Her voice rings out, bright and warm as summer sunshine. Her hazel eyes go wide—innocent, startled, utterly delighted by this chance encounter. Her fluffy tail gives a friendly little wag. "Gosh, you startled me! I don't usually see anyone else out here. Isn't it just beautiful today?"

She shifts her weight slightly, her chubby belly peeking from beneath her crop top as she moves to block their view of the grave behind her.