finely carved muzzle is painted crimson, gaze slit as her tongue slides over her fangs, worrying at tendons and feathers stuck there. the hunt has done little to quell the tension in her limbs, the unrest that threatens beneath her pelt. she hides it well, as she always has, but can not ignore it entirely.
the wraith moves soundlessly through the fog that settles low in the wood, gaze tracing the edges of every shadow. a further hunt is only somewhat appealing; she longs the hot rush of blood that comes with a fight; a true one. but seeking out one of her packmates to tear into without restraint would not do well for her attempts to integrate her, nor will she be entirely content with a spar. for now, at least, she focuses her energy on increasing her pace, adopting a lope as she moves deeper into the territory.
the wraith moves soundlessly through the fog that settles low in the wood, gaze tracing the edges of every shadow. a further hunt is only somewhat appealing; she longs the hot rush of blood that comes with a fight; a true one. but seeking out one of her packmates to tear into without restraint would not do well for her attempts to integrate her, nor will she be entirely content with a spar. for now, at least, she focuses her energy on increasing her pace, adopting a lope as she moves deeper into the territory.
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