it was the sharp cry that had drawn her, the tiny sounds of something other than wolf and yet sounding just as pitiful as a pup. she picked her way through the white, the rust-hued woman picking out the orange tinges in the snow and the tiny trail, which eventually led to the pika as it cried. she hesitated, spotting after a moment the sharp gashes alongside it's side. the glanced up, but the bird was long gone, evidently not desperate enough to pursue its dropped prey.

she stepped toward the thing, jaws already poised to deliver a clean blow. but she hesitated again when the little thing scuttled away, silent now. it seemed wrong, to take this life when it had only recently escaped death. for a long while she watched the little thing as it watched her, dark gaze unreadable. finally, she moved forward and grabbed the fauna by it's scruff. the pika, obviously overcome, fell limp and swayed in her grip, and she could almost imagine that she could feel its tiny heartbeat as she turned back the way she'd come.