Sun Mote Copse A patient, better driver

Maybe @Arunik'ra?

With the Ekar-Aji away on a mission to draw more wolves into Molech's influence, Ar-Khalba took it upon himself to carry out the day's domestic duties. The borders needed to be patrolled and the scent markers refreshed. He stole away to the edge of the copse and began to make a wide arc around the territory, marking the ground with his scent wherever  the Malkaria's scent went stale.

It was daunting work, requiring persistence and consisitancy -- especially when regarding a territory as large as Sun Mote Copse. With so few wolves, Ar-Khalba found himself in need of a break. He took to one of the many streams running through the territory, waded in up to his ankles, and took a much needed drink.

with great effort and agility the red sylph rose from the water, neck bent and a writhing, frenzied trout in tow. the bright gleam of its iridescent stomach and soft coral shade of its ventral gut showed but for a second before white teeth pierced the flesh and procured a watery, pale red. she made for the riverside with the fish still struggling, and it was then that she spotted the male downriver. curious as to his intentions she strode in the gushing water towards him, allowing the gentle tug of the water to push her downstream.

Lifting his face from the water, droplets fell from corners of Ar-Khalba's mouth. Each falling back into the stream to send tiny, circular ripples radiating outward -- only to distort with the current as the waves died away. His eyes remained transfixed on the water's movement for a short while. He had a heart for beautiful things such as this. Though Molech was a brutal god, demanding both blood and devotion, he filled the lives of his supplicant's with so much beauty.

His eyes followed the stream for a short while until he pulled his gaze back. The priestess floated silently along, right into Ar-Khalba's frame of vision. He smiled in greeting, but spoke not. Instead, he simply eyed her with interest.

the water seemed second nature to the red priestess, who had spent a great deal of her childhood along the verdant shores of a far-flung delta. with fish in tow she bid for ar-khalba, and when he noticed her she changed course towards the bank silently. she drew forth from the water a sodden heap and the flue fell from her pelt in rushed waves of dribbling loud water. she turned once and fell to the ground with the fish propped against her jaws - in scissoring motions the red wolf had sliced the fish clean and exposed the raw viscera to the glittering sunlight. silently she pushed a carved half away from her frame -- it was an unspoken offering for the male to take in return for the meal he had shared with her days prior.