Haunted Wood damn your love, damn your lies

she had been searching after @Vanity, the one of the few wolves she knew very little about. her recently one position had both driven and forced her to be on top of her game. shaking up the power balance after it remaining stagnant for months meant keeping her guard up, even if her only possible competition might be Valour.

in any case, after following the woman's most recent, meandering trail and discovering it to be old after all, she paused at the sight of a snowbank. nearing, she settled on her haunches and pressed the mangled half of her face to the frigid white, gaze narrowing somewhat in relief as the throbbing pain began to numb.

She'd finished a patrol on the bitter borders of the Woods, wondering if there was even a point to hunt. Probably, but most caches were pretty full if you knew where to look. And she didn't need to preen them because vengeance took it upon himself to eat the most rancid things. It did absolutely nothing for his breath and she didn't know how Serem could stand such a stench -- and this was by wolf standards!

But there on a snow mound with her faced shoved on it, was Hela.
She wondered what she was doing, for she didn't associate herself with Whelp politics. That was for Vengeance to manage since he brought them here.
"Missed a mouse?" She teased, standing a few feet away. Usually diving into snow wasn't very easy, especially if you didn't have the weight.

she pulls her face from the snow as the teasing voice of Vanity has her stiffen, turning to face her. stilted "no." slips from her lips, at once vaguely ashamed and irate. her words make no sense to the girl; her mother had not been alive long enough to teach her to hunt, least of all mice in the snow. no one else had bothered to. "why'd you hunt a mouse, anyways? they're tiny." 

Oh the little fire-screamer was pissed today. Vanity wondered how she even wound up here. Probably through some tragedy like Valour; not that she knew his story but knew enough that it was all death.
"For a snack and they're good for training on stealth." Vanity had learnt the hard way, when they were the only things she was allowed to hunt -- that or starve.

"I guess you've been battling for the top again," and Vanity knew she'd got it, because she'd seen Valour moping, grumping, and being a little shit recently. The wounding looked pretty bad though. 
"Make sure Serem sees to that wound." Vanity sat, wondering if Hela would sit for a while longer for talking or something.

she accepts this with a nod, supposing she'll learn, someday. but she's hardly interested in doing this now; rather, moreso in getting away and tending to the laceration cutting across her face. "not battling. winning." she clarifies, straightening further as she does. she's not stupid enough to become arrogant with her most recent win, but that does not mean she will shift her quietly confident stance. the woman issues and instruction, and she nods. deciding to take it as a demand she ought to see through right away, she turns on her heel and makes for the healer's den. the woman is probably right, after all, and she's not exactly in the mood to socialize.