Horizon Ridge Maneater

It was a fluke that warm blood now peppered the snow in a spray. An accident, completely void of purpose. It had started with the dull crunch of snow and the rank scent of old and of wet.

The juvenile had gone to scout out that peculiar scent when she spotted the lurching figure. Low, round, hobbling from tiny foot to tiny foot, while dragging it's flat tail.

Bayou watched. She lurked. The wraith was a scribble of ink against the snow; overtaken by instinct, she threw herself at the fat and furry creature -

Her teeth sank in to it's head and with a twist, a shake, a glorious ending of that life, the beaver's life was through.

Bayou sat with the creature for a moment. She dropped it against the snow and spat the warm mixture of blood and saliva in to the white - it steamed softly and melted away a dot of snow.

Like a mother tending to a child, the oddity reached with her tongue and licked at the soaking fur of the rodent. It tasted of the river and of the earth. The old thing must have been lost; unable to hibernate, perhaps, or lost in a state of sedated senility.

It's blood was fresh and putrid. Bayou spat again and sank away - setting herself a few steps from it, to watch it rot. Warm meat did not sit well within her stomach.

The smell of fresh blood drew Kennedy near the spidery creature and her kill. It was instinct that led him to her, but when he drew close, the sight he saw was... unnerving. Instead of eating the beaver, as he had expected the unknown female to be doing, she was simply staring at it. The girl was something of a mess, and Edy could not help but feel drawn to her. He wished to comfort her, to curl himself around her and make her whole again. It was paternal instinct, and Edy was reminded yet again for his real reason of moving here: family.

He refrained from approaching her, unsure of her mental state. Considering her fur was matted and she was not eating, Kennedy worried that she may be ill. “Are you okay?” he questioned. His tone was hesitant, and he took another slow step forward. Edy did not wish to startle her.

The creature was a lump of steaming flesh that slowly cooled. And she, a serpent, waiting for the right time to feast.

When the stranger surfaced and spoke, the girl lifted her head and turned her body. Yellow eyes flashed bright and sharp, their intensity highlighted by the darkness of her gaunt face and the snow. She keened a noise - an indeterminate mewling with a flash of her teeth.

But the sneer begot a smile, a curling of the corners like old wallpaper exposing a deeper, darker interior. "Oui, perfection, I am perfection," she chided and rolled her body, sliding her shoulder and hip in to the snow.

A trained ear was left to catch further conversation, and with a twist of her head, Bayou returned to watching the plump rodent's body as it sat and soaked. In time it would grow rigid and maybe - if she was hungrier then - the girl would begin to pick at it's body like a vulture upon carrion.

Lest this fool remained, and thought to steal it from her.

Kennedy did not recognize the first word as his own native tongue, and her thick accent threw him off further. She seemed a feral being, and Edy knew that those types were best left alone. Still, he could not help but worry about her. She was still a part of the ridge, as far as he could tell, and it was his duty to keep an eye out for his fellow pack-mates. Even if she believed herself to be "perfection," it was clear that she had some kind of something going on. No sane and healthy wolf would allow a carcass to rest before them as she was doing.

“Is there something wrong with it?” he asked, gesturing toward the splash of color in the snow. Perhaps she was avoiding some kind of disease that it carried, though Kennedy could not sense it if that was the case. He had no intention of taking it away from her. She had killed it, and so it was hers.

Wrong was a term that made Bayou's ears flatten with a flick; like bat wings, they flapped down and rested.

"Oh yes, very wrong." Her voice rasped in a way that was indicative of age which her body did not reflect. The girl lifted to her narrow legs and approached the body, prodding it with a paw, gripping it between her teeth to drag and roll it, to test how much life was still within.

When she halted, Bayou sank to her jutting haunch with paws on either side of the body - watching it, hawkish and eager, but her eyes drifted towards the stranger with a clear apprehension. Suspicion.

"Too vivan, too much lavi. I must wait." Her gaze grew sharper but the eyes did not narrow; she watched him and would not move, waiting for the pound of flesh to cool and succumb to the winter's rigidity.

The more he lingered, the more Edy felt as if he should not leave. He wondered what Akhlut was thinking letting such a sickly creature into their ranks. Not because Edy thought it was a bad idea, for he was more than willing to nurse such creatures back to their right selves, but because he did not think Akhlut would stand for such weaknesses. Kennedy's gaze remained soft on the girl as she spoke, curious as to what her foreign words meant.

“For what?” he questioned. His tone was not harsh or accusatory, and his voice was soft. Edy worried that he would startle or frighten her, and he did not wish to do either of those things. She seemed so very frail and unstable. Surely something wretched had happened to her.

His question was not directed with malice, but the girl still sucked a breath through her gritted teeth; how ignorant this man was.

"For what?" She parroted. The long body of the girl slouched over the carcass, and she slid down low enough for the dead creature to become a pillow to her chest and neck. Coiling upon it.

"The lavi. I must wait. Too much life inside!" The girl sounded exasperated, and in the end, her jaws snapped shut with a click of teeth. The witchling would not explain herself further - the boy was not privy to her secrets.

Bayou dragged a thin leg towards herself, perching it upon the body with a sense of possession overruling her judgement. What was he after? Was he here to wait as well, to steal? She clicked her tongue - clearly mad with hunger yet still avoiding the meal beneath - and allowed a sharp growl to begin in her chest.

She would not warn him further. A lashing tail was quick to drape across her hocks, to curl like a shadow around her crumpled form. Leave she was physically telling him. Mine her expression proclaimed.

Apparently, he had pushed too far. She seemed to regress, falling upon the dead thing and repeating words he did not understand. But it was her body language that said more than her voice ever would. Kennedy could take a hint, and with a sigh, he began to step away from her. It was his last wish to make her upset, although he seemed to have done that without even trying. Frustrated that he could not make her better, curious as to what was wrong, the man turned away once he had taken a few steps backward.

As he retreated, he wondered if there was something he could have done better. Perhaps he should have left her alone to begin with, but it was not in his nature to leave a creature like that to their own devices. It was clear to him that she was sick, though he was no medicine man. He would have to seek out Akhlut and let the man know what was going on with the spidery creature. Assuming the leader did not already know, of course.

He obeyed like a good little child; slinking away from her with a look of concern upon his dark face. Bayou watched him go. Her body a hunkered shield between the prize and any who may pilfer it.

His figure retreated and soon enough, Bayou was distracted by the furry ball beneath her. She lifted herself and slid across it, landing on her thin front limbs first and standing with her rear end atop it; a pillow of flesh that barely gave beneath her minuscule weight.

The body was warm. Or perhaps she imagined it.

She would wait for hours - maybe days - without leaving her prize. It would sit and freeze with winter's touch, grow rank and wretched, to put off the wolves of this pack. Only then would it be her's; only then would she taste it.

But oh, she was hungry now.

posting from my phone, so please excuse typos!

It would be a few days, but Kennedy would eventually track down Akhlut and tell him of this meeting. It woul be up to the leader to decide how to handle it, though Edy worried about the outcome. Would she be cast out? Would she be forced to get better?

Kennedy could only hope for the best. In an ideal world, she would realize that something was wrong and would accept his help. Obviously, that was not going to happen. Plodding off toward the ridge, Edy thought to take some time to formulate his talk with Akhlut.