Duck Lake a queen i am, but my throne is made of burned bones

The duck dangles and swings as she moves, spotting the ghostly figure in the background. He hasn’t moved much, if at all, and remains there a moment longer. Thuringwethil heaves a few heavy sighs, moving to sturdier ground where she drops the duck and shakes out of fur. The heat water is cool against her skin but her fur weighs it down, making it uncomfortably hot, but for now she focuses on the current threat. She drops her head and scoops up her kill the moment he trots closer.

Thuringwethil chuffs through a mouthful of features as he closes in, growling a low warning the closer he gets. Slate eyes squint through the sunlight and shifts her weight to proportion her stance. Her head remains low to protect her catch but her tail sweeps into a high crescent along her spine.

A moment later, she softens and drops the duck onto the ground again. One eyebrow quirks, with a smile, as she tears at the features and rips into the kill. A little haphazard but as split as she can make it and throws the ass-half toward the male with another chuff.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you alive again.”