Sun Mote Copse gunship politico

Going along with Arunik'ra's post, but if anything is changed about the PP, I can change mine as well.

She was resting when Arunik'ra came to her, drawing previously weary eyes open wide with interest. The time of waiting was done, the lands had been tended and the borders had been marked. It was time they stake their name here, Molech's name, and call this land home. Asherah rose, the tiredness she'd felt only moments before slipping from her shoulders like the dirt of her den. She emerged into the warmth, breathing deeply of the scent of summer, the smell of night slowly starting to creep in. A breeze swept up her spine, whispered past her ear. She smiled, sighing, Molech was with them.

The Malkaria dove into the dusk headfirst. Noses drew them to the scent of prey. Eshamun drew forward, as was her right. Her pregnancy did not slow her, she flew as if Molech's arms themselves lifted her to the air. They worked as one, so well. Asherah felt her heart thrumming in her chest, her blood coursing through her body. Her tongue lolled from her mouth and she could taste the night on her tongue, the taste of victory that they had been working towards. The deer turned, heading towards the crags. Asherah drew herself over, flanking, to correct the animal if it attempted to swerve and head a different direction. She would help to box it in, help to keep it where Eshamun might snatch a bite.

Her orange eyes gleamed as she imagined the taste of the flesh, the warmth of the kill and that of the pack around her feasting. She imagined the skull positioned prominently on the Shrine, their first kill on their own grounds. She did not get lost in her mind, though, she focused on the task at hand.