She slid into the shadows, and had just returned to the rendezvous moments before reaching the stick-wielding pup's scene. Her first efforts on the hunt had failed, so she opted for fishing instead when she didn't particularly feeling like exerting herself chasing. Now she brought back the creekwater and a small fish that suited her well enough. With the cool-down from a saturated coat, she had very little to complain about right now.
Since sharing was to be avoided if she could help it, she did not rush to go to the pups quite yet. She settled within earshot and did not move to distract from what busied them. As she peeled at the scaled flesh, she tuned in with mild interest to see what may unfold between the dark son and an observing daughter--and if and when they might notice her casually lurking back on them.
it was truly a herculean task, keeping all the sticks in line. arcturus hoped his parents appreciated him for all he did, because it was a lot -- stick slaying was serious business, and arcturus took his job as lawn orderly to heart. since yama didn't seem interested in helping him keep the unruly sticks in line, arcturus gave her a little harrumph and went back to beleaguering the battered piece of wood.
he gave the stick a good thrash, reminding it that he was in charge with little growls -- but mid-shake, caught the slinking form of his mother. "MAMA!" he shouted, absolutely blowing her cover (and forgetting about the disorderly stick behind him). his tail thumped rapidly as he saw she was peeling something - stick? he tilted his head curiously, bounding over to her with a wide grin on his features.
She made very little progress on her peel before she was zeroed in on, then entirely called out. Almost impressively fast, but not quick enough to threaten her fish yet, she picked up her prize and held fast as the two of them came bounding on towards her. She let them get close enough to her.. just about enough so to let them maybe get their hopes up, but carefully aimed, she stayed just out of reach.
With a low, taunting rumble of nope before she went, she sprang away over them entirely and took her fish with her. Her tail flung up tall and a look over her shoulder wondered if they'd still come for her.
She stood poised and fully prepared to taunt them into action if she had to, but thankfully she did not. They were not so easily off-put to deny coming back at her. Fresh off the satisfaction of costing them such an easy victory, her senses whirled, reached, and she weighed her options. To find a lesson in terrorizing them was always the goal, in some vague way at least.
She could disappear entirely and make them track her, or she could goad them into confrontation. Both, in some tangling way that the nature of the hunt would always show them, was probably her best plan with them in mind. At least she had their attention already, and that would be hard to ignore.
But she gave a quick pause again now that she was well away and readjusted the fish in her teeth, then shook her head with a playful growl. The fish at her mercy, and once pleased with a shake, she tossed her head and kicked her heels out, romping in place; look how fun, she glinted her teeth over her shoulder at them through scales, so far staying relatively stationary as distance eased between her and the whelps--but what would they do once in reach?