Cedar Sweep .not_human

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@Grace

the scent of another was undeniable even as charmaigne crept through the undergrowth, ears swivelling to try and pick up foreign woman's course as nose did its best to focus on the woodchuck's trail. ( the scent of something larger, something tastier and unwanted distraction ) as much as the ghoul did agree with her stomach on what would make for better prey, these lands were still too much an unknown to go picking off wolves. there was no telling what packs lived within these wilds, what dignitary she might accidentally d e v o u r; without her siblings to defend against such cruelties as a vengeful mob, it was best not to go finding out. that might be her fault too though. apparently making a point by eating your brother was bad for family relations. 

non, chides the rational corner of her mind, shaking away dreams of a more sentient meal — she had a woodchuck to track down. they would become rare enough soon, chased into hibernation by the cold and it would be a waste to throw away such an opportunity for a meal. ( so how is it then, that the pale wraith finds herself hovering behind a broad trunk on those spindly limbs, sage gaze tracing the hobbled girl's awkward but determined movements ) mesh of whites and creams and greys has straightened out now, tall and inherently proud, staring down long snout with unnerving lack of emotion: a scientist observing a specimen. cold. a dark ear flicked at the faint thrum of the other's humming, mind whirring in time. ( did this land then not have w a r ? ) mused the pale ghoul, toes twisting into the soft earth; the darker wolf seemed more naturally skittish than anything else, and otherwise too ... cheerful. though, it was possible such misplaced cheer and accompanied skittishness were the result of the plant the scarred wolf was digging up — herbs had always been corinth's weakness; charmaigne had taken advantage of that.

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