I've been meaning to read this all week. Had to get here before it closes, though my vote won't go.

But really, this whole paragraph is straight fire:

The lights of the city criss crossed her skin, shadowed lace. She remembered the white light on the river, all shimmery before the furious white blur over the rocks. There was nothing the river couldn't wash off her skin. The day she stumbled on the men in the clearing, out of place and wolf like, was the day ordinary things like camping and being in the river were over.

In my opinion it doesn't get much better than that, pound for pound