Minna had wandered a little too far from home.
She found herself in a new region, northernly and cold. Tired, she searched for a place to spend the night, yawning as she trotted by a small pool, still and silent. The best lace should could find was a huge tree, bent and cracked, creating a small hollow at the base. Minna sat by it's entrance, peering inside and deciding it was safe. She curled up by the entrance, deciding to attend to her small shoulder wound before resting.
With rough tonue strokes she lapped off the poultice placed there that morning, one made of a type of herb meant to stemm bleeding, not heal and protect from infection. Minna's options had been few, seeing as the locusts had ravaged most of the herbs in the area. It was to her dismay, then, when she cleaned of the poultice completely she noticed the wound was red and puckered, with a slight yellow twinge. The sctratch had obviously become infected by the coyotes dirtied claws.
5 <- even is successful hunt.
The mountain was not so kind to her these days. She felt put off by the social struggles; keeping out of the way of Gyda was one thing, but the more she did it, the less she wanted to. And yet Thuringwethil's warning remained fresh in her mind - overworked every night as she replayed the conversation in her head. Seregryrn grew tired of it quickly. All of it. Her desire to rise up the ranks may have been strong, it may have all hinged on her incensed feeling of self-importance, but it was true to her. Being treated like a lesser next to
outsiders was an insult.
To ease some of the stress from her mind - and perhaps feed her hungry belly - she chose to abandon the mountain for the day. She crossed the river without thinking, and changed course so that she could venture through the maplewood where their enemies once slept. Seregryn remembered those days. Waiting back at the encampment upon the mountain, eager to find out how the battle had unfolded - being jealous she could not attend - and then the let down, because no battle commenced. What was the point of living if not to fight? Why build a home here if it was going to be easy? These thoughts riled her further; she was distracted, and thus did not notice the stranger in her midst.
Not until she smelled blood upon the air — it was fresh, and she was alert to it as soon as her nose caught the taste. She bypassed where the wolf was hiding, not realizing it was a wolf nor that she was injured, and vaulted her body over an array of fallen trees; they were dried out by the sun and bare, but something had made a home on the other side. As soon as her paws touched down the creature bolted, and it was scurrying off in to the mess of forest before Seregryn could get even a glimpse. Behind her was Minna, but she did not know that the blood was lupine and not in any manner
edible. Not that she'd have minded.
A dark girl rushed past Minna, the marbled femme could see the blur of her pelt as she raced by. Paws thudded on ground, and then a brief moment of silence- the woman must of jumped. Minna caught only a whiff of her scent, she thought she could discern the heavyness of pack-scent but she was not so sure. Instinct and curiousity lent movement to her paws, she followed the female's trail without hesitation. Her amber eyes sought out her dark form, and Minna chuffed softly in greeting, not wanting to alarm the woman.
She was silent, sitting a short distance away, and wondering if the female would prove friendly or not. Many personalities had been warped by the famine, those who had once been kind where now closed-off and searching for anything to fill the emptyness inside them that was their stomach.
The famine had done its work on many of the Dragons, wearing them down to nearly nothing, and Seregryn was hardly different. She was a young creature with the gawky proportions indicative of her age, and the lack of food only added to the spectacle of her large paws and head. She had grown some since her arrival to the mountain though. Her body was lean, it was powerful, but even the tiny dregs of muscle she had achieved were beginning to wear thin. She stood huffing and puffing while her eyes trailed after the disjointed sounds of escape; the creature she had pursued was gone, and the girl was left to figure out what else she could do from here. As she turned her head and sucked in a breath of humid summer air, she heard a sound from behind her, and her nearest ear pivoted with the rest of her, thus all her faculties were focused upon the stranger.
Upon sighting this stranger, Seregryn's head lifted and she inhaled sharply, wondering if this was the thing which had ruined her hunt. She would never admit that it was her own bumbling, her own fault, especially when a stranger lurked nearby. She paced towards the sitting stranger. Her steps were slow and practiced, as if she were dancing, but there was a rigidity to her entire body that bespoke some form of apprehension. Just as this stranger did not know what to make of her, Seregryn did not know what to do with them; were they an enemy? Were they lurking in wait to steal the prize, had Seregryn been successful? Or were they waiting for backup - in which case, was Seregryn to be the main course? Her eyes narrowed at this thought, the bright crimson darkening to a ruddy brown with the thickness of her lashes.