Redhawk Caldera Please don't make any sudden moves

There are new children among them, though Hatshepsut steers clear of their den as well. The death of the alphas' son is well-known, but the woman cannot find it in her heart to grieve. Death came for them all, its jackal-head rearing from the shadows beyond the sickbed -- better to be killed swiftly and consumed than die a slow and aching death of starvation. 

but the prey has returned, and with it her strength. Hatshepsut's strength flares in a welter of killing; each day she departs the borders, and returns more often than not with a dangling carcass for the caches. She is content to be away from the tumult of the Caldera, in which she has never felt welcome.

The saltking comes to mind; Hatshepsut considers that she might join him alongside the sea, but the brine holds no appeal for her. It is Peregrine who shakes the woman from her reverie; she lengthens her stride to heed him, jaws aclasp 'round the body of a rabbit.

The dark yearling who stands before the alpha male is ignored. Hatshepsut, despite the anger that roils in her gut, dips her head to the man and lies the rabbit between them in silence. His weakness is tangible from where she is, and the Egyptian considers what it is this means for the Caldera.