Sheepeater Cliff so fight, little wolf, fight

Chaudry was growing to be more of a wanderer day by day. Whether it was to hunt, to scout, or looking for a fight, he no longer did it in the vale. He was beginning to see that in every sense of the word, he had lost over there; he had lost his role, he had lost his maman to his anger, his brothers were gone, and despite his efforts Noctaryn had still shacked up and became his step-father. Gross.

Today he hoped for some relief in the form of a sheep carcass. He was horribly scared of the creatures, but should he be able to take one down it would do great things for his shattering ego. If he was lucky, maybe he could take some ram horns back to Julienne too.

Silent, he traipsed the cliffs in search of a scent. He knew there was a large population of sheep from the crude droppings and the bleats he heard in the night. All he needed to do now was spot them.

The only thing differing Raen from a boulder was the white on her pelt, her two different eye colors, and the fact she came pre-installed with fangs, claws, and a bone to pick with life itself. Wind had brought her here, paws known to wander, and hunger had brought her to sheep. 

Should be easy, she thought. Powerful, elegant, dipped in silver ink and muscle rippling under mountain fur. 

Sheep would bend and break under her teeth. 

Cowards.