bone mountain

The only way to settle these differences in the wild was by tooth and claw. By now, she knew what it took for Kapvik to respect; her mate had not yet realized this up until now (she believed), and so, what she saw before her was what she knew must occur for any differences to be settled. The alpha female did not enjoy this, but neither did she shirk or avoid it. It was necessary, and there was no evil in that.

Her ears perked as the two behemoths fought it out. Some time had passed, and still they fought...

But the alpha female had grown hungry, incredibly hungry, and as temperamental as she was she wanted to get involved, too. A sudden annoyance overtook her, and she bullied herself between them snapping at either of their faces vehemently, but sure to never let her fangs brush either of their pelts. Close enough to, but her movements were quite precise, even in the messiness that surrounded her.

The scent of blood was in the air, and it was from not any one of them. A low snarl and a gesture in the direction the scent came from. Their fight would be delayed in thanks to her insatiable craving, and if there was any question as to what it was she wanted or had intervened for, there would not be as she pushed in that direction; the sound of a herd thundering beneath them could be heard... and one of them, or more than one of them, bled. The scent was thick. She looked over her shoulder, her dark eyes demanding as one ear rotated to better hear them over the commotion of the hectic migration—a foreshadowing to the future—in case they thought it wise to ignore her hunger.

Then she might very well eat them, and that starved expression—well fed though she was—foretold this.