Hideaway Strath Not Today, I hope.

OOC: I don't plan to actually try to eat you, but I just want Darsal to do a bit of tracking to go toward her Hunter trade. I hope you don't mind.

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Again, Darsal was hunting. The famine was wrenching her newly-forming pack, the Royal Fire Court, and she knew that there could never be overkill at this point.
She left the Golden Glade, her pack's base, and headed southeast toward the river whose tributaries branched down in Black Morass. Hideaway Strath usually had a decent amount of hunting opportunities, whether fish, rabbits, elk, or deer. Once she'd crossed the murky greenery of Cedar Sweep, she took care to keep herself hidden. Yet, how was she supposed to do this in the fields across the river?
The blackened-gray wolf sought for some sort of idea, and once she'd pondered enough, she decided to circle around and cross the river in the narrowed shallows at the edge of Cedar Sweep. Thus, she did, and after crossing the river, she set south, tracing the treeline of Hideaway Strath. Even here, she could spy deer tracks in the field's soil: deep-set, diagonally-patterned hoofprints, indicating a buck's former presence here. Back in Boli Tundra, deer and elk hunting was essential to her pack, and therefore Darsal was keen on their tracks and behavioral habits.
Her orange gaze scanned the meadow as she stalked, looking for any sign of movement. She knew she couldn't take down a full-grown deer alone, but possibly some of last spring's fawns were feeling a bit foolish today and would scamper away from their buck's protective harem?