Ouroboros Spine Under the bludgeonings of chance

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She could not feel the looks from Salamander. While some might think she was all powerful with her mighty presence, she was no God and certainly did not have eyes on the back of her head. She heard the red girl come with her, and again, they trailed the herd of moose. Tonravik thought nothing of their failure, this time. She only thought that the woman before her needed food, given the fact that she had been on her own for however long a time. Tonravik thought of pack. And now, this wolf beside her was pack.

A tuft of fur and blood was noted on a pale tree, and Tonravik sniffed hungrily at it. It was not one of her own, nor their species. Her tail waved. Injured prey. This made things all the easier. The blood had dried, and it was old, but it mattered not. Tonravik pushed forward, now moving up a steep, stony hill. And upon arriving to the top, she noted in the distance the herd.

They were on the move, but deep in the territory. Her eyes ran over them all, and her keen eye spotted one slower than the rest, but only just. Its gait was different, and it was not so terribly obvious... but the hunter recognized the weakness. "What do you see, Aupârtok?" Some wolves could not spot these minuet things, and that was fine. But she wondered if her red wolf would, and looked to her as the herd meandered onward, unaware of their proximity.