Totoka River positivity hitting 50 levels deep

The wind ruffled her coat, battering against her slim face as if to catch the wisp in its grasp and blow her away to another foreign land. Grass brushed against the curve of her belly - sunken even further in with the trials of living alone. She was not so diminished, rather she just appeared to have missed one too many meals. The scrub grass soon gave way to gritty sand that pooled up and over her small feet with each step. She maneuvered her way through the dunes with as much as grace as she could muster; lowering her neck so as to sniff the ground. The horizon - a stretch of sand and low sheets of grey clouds - seemed barren at first glance but soon yielded the scent and appearance of a corrupted shark at the bank of a river. Nym - having eaten worse - stopped to fill her belly with the rancid meat despite the taste. 

When The Reaper had eaten as much as she could stomach, a flash of her tongue was seen licking her chops before she was off again. The scent of a male was strong around the corpse and she had no desire to linger and reveal that she had eaten from it. The Night Stalker was counting on the river she treaded through to sluice off the scent of most of her meal. She could smell the same male even as she moved on, the sound of the waves growing louder with every step. He was but a blip on the horizon at first, only standing out amongst the sand because of the rich brown of his coat. 

Nym approached, a silent but curious investigator, her pale snout turned up to catch his scent on the air. She held herself carefully neutral - without any real fear. A soft noise of greeting fell from her maw, a sound not unlike the chirp of a wildcat.