my name is death [M]

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Gory violence. Sex.

Spree with me, someone?! For warden or warrior, however you want to play it.

Tonravik fished frequently when she could, craving the tender meat. But oftentimes she left behind the rest of the body, something that was not edible for wolves. Neither was it edible to any other canines; but that did not mean they did not try to make something out of the scraps. Darkness had fallen, and Tonravik blended perfectly with that; an eerie howl summoned any nearby wolves to her. Lurking near the bodies were foxes, beings that Tonravik had been observing for some amount of time. They often made off with the meat before she returned to her hunting grounds, having learned her schedule.

But by some chance of fate, Tonravik had arrived a little earlier.

In truth, it was no chance that brought her here. She guarded the lands that her cubs would soon arrive in... and she wanted to take no chances with the foxes that had taken the meat. Her move was a tactical one; she wanted to weed the predators out of the area while she still could without risking the lives of her cubs. They were all in one place, secure in her womb.

Three of the red animals gripped at the large leftovers. Tonravik had howled to the pack; if any wished to join her, they could.

Their eyes glowed green in the light of the moon, and when one set of eyes fell onto her, Tonravik sprinted toward them. It had little time to alert its companions; the alpha female was swift in killing the lookout, whose yelp died in its throat before the light went out in its eyes. The others fled, in two different directions, and Tonravik went for the healthiest one, quiet as her paws thud against the earth around Tarritut.