Dawnlark Plains woman king

Sangilak lumbered through the plains slowly, her gait a steady stalk. For two days Sangilak had doggedly followed the creature up ahead. The buck was thick and full, but it moved slowly, tiredly. She had harassed it away from water, and only let the thing eat. Sangilak had managed to separate this one from the herd; it had grayed, significantly, and the vitality of the mammal was lacking. It had lived well past its prime, and she did not doubt the male with the mighty rack sired many children and had a plethora of grandchildren, perhaps more than either of them could count. Its stubborn persistence, she knew, could only be bested by her own. Sangilak did not press her luck with it, however; if it had survived for so long, it must have faced odds like these before.

Well, it would not survive her. Sangilak only felt pleased she could see its last battle, be a part of it, even... but she was not foolish. She did not doubt the creature had reserves of energy even still. One well-placed kick was enough to do any wolf in, and she had not the speed to get away from such a blow that was so swiftly dealt. Sangilak knew that when she charged for the other, it would be when it was at its final moment.

Sangilak herself was able to drink herself. Now and then, @Tatkret would hover nearby to check her progress. At present he had ranged ahead. Some hours had passed, and it was evening. Her eyes deviated from prey to horizon. A lone coyote that had drawn to near had met its fate and provided Sangilak with a snack to tide her over 'til nightfall—

But she would not need to wait so long. A shivering movement in her peripherals summoned her attention, and her eyes roved over to the exhausted animal. Its own head, thanks to its rack, became too much to carry. Few buck remained with racks upon their head at all; she had been lucky enough to find this prize. She watched as its head lowered, and then, ten minutes later, its knees buckled. It breathed in a labored manner, and she watched its dull eyes as they studied her. Sangilak waited no longer as she drifted near. The thing shifted as though it might struggle, and she was given pause... but it let out a final, heavy breath before it died.

Sangilak would not have cared either way, so long as she was away from its legs and thorny tines as she ate. Dead or alive made little difference. And so she gorged, eating her spoils; she grabbed for the liver and swallowed it nearly whole before continuing to eat enough to make her hunger subside. She was a great beast of a wolf herself, and so she had much to eat; but she was wary that she was a lone wolf, all the same, and that she ought not to gorge herself as she might. She had only her tawny companion, after all. She needed all of her faculties to fight, and a full stomach would only tire her and slow her down.