Moonspear everything the light touches

Mice, birds' eggs, dry bones. Little things had sustained her for this long, but she needed more. Hungry gnawed constantly at her belly. It was an ache that could not be ignored, and that refused to be exstinquished by the meager offerings she was able to provide it.

Her eyes glinted when they fell on the black dart moving through the undergrowth. Rinn knew not how she'd come to be on this mountain or how long she'd been walking or even what manner of creature the black dart happened to be. It was alive, and big enough to make a meal out of. That was enough.

With a silent snarl twisting her features, Rinn crept forward, step-by-step. She could not allow this one to get away. Not even when another, larger creature appeared did she cease her hunting. Their conversation would, perhaps, distract them both enough that she could draw nearer, come closer to her meal. Perhaps.

Perhaps she was too bold.