Shadewood when the last tree has fallen

tracker specialty thread (repost)

In the early light of dawn she did stalk, slipping in silence from the den she shared with Cry and masking herself in the cover of shade that the trees provided - both the still bare, and the evergreen, as well as those that had begun once more to blossom. The sky was visible through various cracks in the canopy, a wash of blue and orange that sped across the clouds in arrows of vibrant colour; where the sun glowed and the trees were sparce enough for a large expanse of open land, the keep's elk herd grazed. 

Gwen had no desire to hunt, not this morning. She could not, with a belly so large and full of life.

Her aim was to count the numbers, survey for any disappearances and ensure the population was healthy enough to continue providing for the wolves who resided here. Besides, the snowbird held a great deal of compassion for the creatures; yes, they filled her stomach and kept her limbs moving, but they were fascinating to watch. This is exactly what she intended to do, making her presence known by idly sitting in broad daylight - once the herd realised she was not hunting them, they settled, and she was able to properly observe them.

Mornings like this were often her favourite, despite the lingering shadow of tenebrosity that hung in anticipation behind her skull.

Phex ambled along at a wonky trot. She wanted to stay active. There was no way damn children were gonna make her sit her ass down put. She found Gwen's trail and followed it, keeping low as the Huntress wouldn't want her hunt spoiled. Though, Phex didn't think she'd be able to catch much in her state -- she was bulbous!

At long last, she saw the snowflake fur and crept low, wondering what the woman was watching. She moved alongside her, though not silently. It was hard to creep silently with a limp, Phex found. 
"Why are deer so dangerous yet they eat grass." She murmured in way of greeting, a spark to her eye.
Watching deer sometimes interested her, sometimes bored her. She liked to see how many there were but wanted to know what they ate. 
So far, she'd found that they move once they've eaten all the best foods available to them; which wasn't very good tasting in the skewbald's opinion. 

Phex's presence was noted, but not a sound slipped from the empress' lips; she regarded the auburn girl with a warm slide of her gaze, a tender breath of the most gentle ocean waves - regardless of whatever occured between herself and her husband, the scout would always maintain a special place in Gwendolyn's patchwork heart. This careful silence was broken when at last her companion parted her maw, but the huntress found herself incapable of becoming disgruntled by the gesture; she did not mind. Besides, it was a question of which she'd pondered countless times before, back in her youth when the world was still new and life drilled excitement into her veins.

"Well," she murmured with a half-smile, "The deer eat the grass, and we eat the deer. Does that not mean we eat the grass, too?" Alighting in her gaze was a shimmer of scintillating glory, a miniscule shard of what once enlightened her mind and freed her from the demons inside - passion was a wonderous trophy, and with it came a glimpse of younger days. The Eruna's fathomless eyes traced the form of a newly birthed calf, fighting to suckle at her mother's belly. "We are all connected somehow."

Huh. Phex had never thought of it like that before. The woman was right, she supposed. 
The deer ate the grass and that made the deer bigger, wolves ate the deer and they got bigger. Smart.
"I suppose so," she murmured, shifting her butt quietly. 
They seemed to move often, always looking for new patches to eat. The skewbald had seen them eating bark, too, in the winter. 
Vegetarians, eh.

"Of course we're connected. If the deer weren't here we wouldn't," she gave the pale Empress a smile, "if the trees weren't here, the deer wouldn't. It's like a web, a network. We rely on them and they rely on us." Phex blinked, peering over the grass. She wondered how many there were. The herd was a good size, perhaps twenty adults. "We should have a pack hunt soon, but I'm afraid most of us women are carrying." She chuckled softly like a creek over stones. She could probably still hunt but Gwen couldn't. 

"Exactly," the huntress smiled, taking great pride in the passing of such knowledge - life was all about balance, she believed, and they were all connected. If part of the chain broke, the rest would come crumbling down; to tip the balance was a perilous risk, and this is why she always gave thanks to the lives that passed to renew her own. The hunt was as much an art as it was a bid for survival.

"Yes, we should. Once the children are here-" she passed a glance to her own stomach, and briefly flickered her fathomless gaze over that of Phex's own, "perhaps we can organise one. I do miss hunting together with others." It would be good to engage in some exercise, too - she'd been unable to sprint for an unthinkable period of time, and her legs ached to leap across the forest floor, to embrace the freedom of the wild wolf; not to say she'd wish her children gone. Never. But the act of pregancy was definitely tiring, and she was weary.

The woman grinned, her tail swaying softly across the ground. 
"I'm sure we will. When the pups are old enough to have sitters, there will be a pack hunt." Phex, in all her useless hunting glory, would be a sitter. She wouldn't be much use hunting.

She watched the deer. Eating. Moving around. They'd be cute if one could get close enough to see them properly -- that being without the ungulate having its throat ripped. She yawned, settling down further into the grass. It's slight dewy dampness seeping into her fur. "How many you reckon there are?" She tried peering over the grass but was obviously too short and low to see. 

heckin crappy post cause im awful atm lol sorry

With painted pictures of the future hunt scene, a wispy sigh of hope slithered from her lips into the air; her eyes, fathomless in their depths, dusted over the herd in admiration amongst longing. They were beautiful creatures, despite their position as prey, and she adored observing them in their natural existences, how simple yet complex it all was.

"Elk herds usually grow very large, often around 200 per group. I would reckon the number here are around that, but we can't see them all from where we are. It's incredible." Again washed the glimmer of child-like enthusiasm, gazing momentarily back toward Phex to gauge her reaction.

Phex's eyes widened, taking in the predicted scale. She thought there was, like, seven. 
In truth, Phex couldn't count over fifteen.
"Really? And we're supposed to hunt them? Won't they just trample us."
She thought to the pack hunts she'd seen and realized that by running, it eliminated the weak who wasn't useful to the herd and could be dangerous if it was sick. What did a herd do anyway? Probably the same as a pack. Providing service in the workings of nature's clockwork. 

"I'd like to see that many wolves in one place." She concluded, looking out at the herd. Enormous individually and even more so in a herd. She couldn't even dream of hunting them.