OOc: Takes place before the NSV pack event
She could feel it. By all that was good within nature, she could feel the cusp of spring as she did the slight bound in her step. It came excitably, if not also rhythmically to her stride as she perused the borders with both care and calm, having grown used to the scents of a border well marked. She was quite confident that the increased efforts of the warriors had borne the fruit of an even safer haven, by which she could walk its rock laden contours with the springtime mirth. The wolf did not smile, for there were none to receive it, but there was an air of content that followed her fragranced trail. Spring had done its work too to heighten the wiles that drenched her. A calling, no doubt, to the wary nares that sought the readiness of the season’s bounty. And while her mind was not on the prospects of pups, that did not keep her body from raising its signal. Perhaps this was another cause for the bounce in her usually heavy stride; knowing that the prospects of being endowed with life were not beyond even her.
And as any female might have, she had an idea in mind (well planted by a certain white wolf among their ranks) of whom she wished to share those prospects with. Provided his mind was not completely adverse to the idea. As a creature that had once been made to lie and wait to receive, she hadn’t the slightest inkling of where to start to garner another’s attention. At least with purpose. She had a mind to directly speak to him, but in her heart she felt it was a lacking gesture. A hearty meal might have sufficed. Something special; a carcass that warranted both acknowledgement and praise to the exposition of her skill.
Pondering on this, the tan wolf walked the familiar paths of the mountains, seeking the more floral routes that snaked in and out of the shelter of its base. It was only near the exterior of borders that her nose was assaulted by blood. The pungent stench of stale blood akin to fodder than wolf rising above the pines of the treeline. It had crossed her mind to leave it be and carry on, hoping that perhaps a scavenging fowl would pluck the carcass, yet unseen, clean. But in doing so was the risk that larger predators might find the meat attractive, and in the worst instance grow bold and seek to infiltrate the whole of the Vale. She could not allow that risk to go unacknowledged.
Slipping from her personal thoughts, she assumed the role of duty and made a direct line for the carcass by its scent. It did not take long to reach the edge of the territory, but what was found within sight, but a few meters from the brink, was a sight that both disgusted and disturbed her. She recognized the red ridge wolf as part of the Creek; the very female that named herself ‘wife’ of her mentor. And there was indeed a carcass, well prodded beforehand as seen by the state of its wounds, but certainly with enough meat to supply others. It was not the sight of the gaping animal that raised the she-wolf’s hackles to stand on end. Nor was it the stench that pulled her lips back with a horrid snarl. It was the sight of a wolf feeding so close to claimed borders. The determination, she could only compare to the same vigor seen by Haunter in her company. One would have thought the Creek wolves were starved things by this pattern. Yet she offered no sympathy to the thought. Rather her maw parted as the warning of proximity rattled free, growing with each breath til it mirrored the known grumble of her faction lead. She spared no words, but offered the sound of anger in their place. She gave but one bark to dismiss, surrender the carrion and leave while the opportunity was still afforded to the brilliant flame.
As she lowered her head to rest between her shoulders, and her body hunched forward in the ready for assault, she made it clear that there would not be a second warning. |