Neverwinter Forest full moon rising

Convinced that only under the hushed lull of night Jaguara could draw her power, she lurked among the foreign trees of the forest. Her prowling had concluded as the she-wolf came to a standstill, stiff and listening. Alert not only to the life that thrummed in the vegetation around her, but open to receiving from the spirits of the forest themselves. But there was nothing. No acknowledgement crooned against her lifted ears, no chill draped down her spine. Despite her efforts she was still too stapled to this physical world. Perhaps for a good reason this time.

Hypersensitive Jaguara took note of something large drifting its way towards her location, difficult to perceive with her eyes but notable from the light rustle of bush underfoot. Staying her ground the wolf came into view, just barely, but being one herself she was able to pluck out the beastly shadow from the other silhouettes of the woods. There was a stark difference in the other’s approach, this stranger was not simply wandering—she was hunting. Wary, the loner took a step back her skull lowering to sulk between her shoulders with anticipation.