Fairspell Meadow Showered by the empty hopes

Each tuft of fur that Saena extricated was spat to the side. She plucked with care until the chill flesh of the beaver was exposed, and then pressed her nose to the skin and inhaled deeply. It still carried the game-y scent of an exotic prey animal. She grinned, snorted, and was about to take a bite when she finally noticed another wolf in the meadow. His approach was not direct, though the man was drawing nearer by the second. Saena squinted, then grew rigid. That guy looked an awful lot like...

"Back for more, you slimy bastard?" she growled, hunkering possessively over her kill, which she shuffled closer to her breast. She didn't move immediately, but if Sebastian decided he was going to try his luck a second time, then she would be on her feet in seconds. Every muscle was poised to rise. Her short tail was held poker straight behind her and her face contorted into a warning snarl. Sebastian may have shown no signs of taking her meal, but he was an outright enemy and that made him dangerous enough.

Unlike Wildfire, Sebastian had given her a reason to distrust him. The man had refused to leave her veritable backyard when asked to and had even tried to refuse when surrounded by her pack mates. That wasn't the sort of wolf that one would call reasonable. It was suspicious behaviour in Saena's mind, so his insistence that he was innocent had fallen on deaf ears that day. She would make no move to attack him, not only because she was without back-up but because she knew she'd taken it too far the last time, but it wouldn't stop her from posturing.

A movement in her periphery caused her to slide her gaze sideways just in time to see a mouse disappear from the sky into the debris. She tilted an ear in that direction, now fearful of another Redhawker showing up to aid Sebastian (she still couldn't smell the difference), and locked her eyes back on his large grey figure.