the bloody and the broken

Hunger was one of the most primal sensations to any beast. It lent a sense of urgency to any situation, a greed, and for Salamander that greed became malicious. She had been mid-patrol when the pangs of great hunger suddenly slammed in to her, like an uppercut to the stomach, so she cut the march short and headed for a nearby cache. Upon discovering it to be empty, the woman groaned (which was more like a growl), and headed deeper in to the territory. A hunt might have been necessary - but Salamander had proven her gamekeeping prowess (practically no skill at all), and she was not looking forward to it.

In fact, she wasn't looking forward at all.

With her nose nearly dirt-level and her agitation growing while she paced, Salamander was tracking the scent of some kind of prey. It might have been a rat for all she cared; but it wasn't wolf, and the scent of it made her salivate, leaving clusters of bubbly spit behind as she wandered. With her head down and her mind focused entirely on eating the next thing she found, she managed to walk right in to a wide trunked tree. The sound of her head conking against the bark resounded through the shade, but was dwarfed by Salamander's rage-filled bellow.