Bitterroot Valley A Mix of Lives comes with Curses and Blessings

She'd taken off from talking to Gyda with steam from her ears. Destination unknown, she heads to the borders on the southern corner of her claim and considers heading to the river for a drink of water and clearing of her mind. It isn't going to do much, she knows but is hopeful some time by herself help clear her mind. Putting some distance between herself and everything else might bring some new perspective.

That is, of course, until she sees him.

Thuringwethil doesn't recognize him. She can't smell him from where she stands. If she didn't already have fire brewing in the depth of her chest, she might have had a coherent thought before she acts.

She doesn't see the rabbit elude the wolf but the damage is already done. Large paws hit the ground with a quiet force she aims to keep silent until she's close enough to smell him. It reminds her of Reek, the only Phoenix wolf she knows, and enough to trigger her legs to move faster. Sound doesn't matter at this point, close enough to rumble a projecting snarl when she's near. Streamlined right for him; no action on his part would send him closer to his maker than a simple rabbit chase would warrant.

She's currently in pursuit to barrel him over.