Ouroboros Spine Under the bludgeonings of chance

There were plenty of things for Tonravik to worry about, but worry she did not. Her patrols were regular and touched every inch the land had to offer, and already there was plenty of blood on the borders that comforted the leader. She had kept them out; the same could not be said of her own successful trespass. A scent came to her in the wind, and so did the sound of the others approach. Tonravik continued forward for a moment before turning to look to her newest member, ears perked as she observed the other who sniffed at the earth. Tonravik absently licked the blood from her chops, before looking into the distance. She herself sniffed the air, now.

This morning, they would hunt when the sun first broke into the sky. She could smell their quarry, but the creatures were not in her line of sight. Tonravik looked to the russet toned woman for a prolonged amount of time, in something of an invitation for the other to tag along, before taking another step forward and placing her snout to the earth. Nearby was scat, and the leader darted toward it. Her desire to explore shifted to something more of a priority; she could kill two birds with one stone.