Fairspell Meadow the honest man has numerous difficulties

yisss new modem + internet is pretty nice (OR MAYBE I'M JUST EASILY EXCITED AFTER LIKE FIVE DAYS OF NO NET)(s'all good, tat-ass)

When it was all said and done, she relaxed with a visible heave and slowly relinquished her grip on the prey. All the while, she steadily remembered herself.. and while she still felt her blood buzzing excitedly in her ears, this was now the time for a cool-down. She realized the exertion more by the second, but instead of finding it to be a heavy weight to carry, she thrummed with a quiet, strangely-welling satisfaction that was encouraged by the sight of a mighty take-down at her paws.

She'd feel it tomorrow, and maybe feel differently on the whole of this.. but for now, she lingered over the antelope's head while taking in the sight of him with the taste of his blood so fresh and vivid. Up close like this was not a vantage point she gained very often on these beasts, and she made quick use of her seconds and looked over the subtle lines of his old scars, fresh nicks, where his horns were rooted, and even the pattern of his colors where dark across the bridge of his  faded to white and orange. She slid back, admiring the wounds on his neck, shoulder, stomach and legs -- one by one. Even dead and bloodied, he remained impressive. With certainty she knew his mark would live on in some capacity.

Then, finally, and still panting, she regarded her fellow wolf from the opposite side of the fallen pronghorn. She made no move for the meat, aside from her lingering lookover of seconds past, and eased into an almost-delicate sit. Finally, she felt herself beginning to catch up to her breath.. slowly but surely.

As she collected herself, she attempted to get a read on him. His scents said little and of course, sight of him was nothing familiar, just as it had been earlier. Here and now, she was at least afforded a better look at him, down to his details of sunfire eyes and ochre highlights, and it was easy to understand the force he had brought to the hunt. She swiveled her ears his way and didn't mask her investigations alongside unspoken questions -- was he unhurt? Satisfied? Otherwise? Who was he? Or did it matter? His intentions? How long had he stalked these creatures before this? He may not let her know more than what she did already.