Two Rivers Isle he jests at scars that never felt a wound

Raven did not actually witness the kill, as her attention was solely on the doe. She drove the doe back with her teeth, emboldened by an instinctive energy she'd hardly known was there. Her white teeth flashed and rent the doe's forelegs as the mother attempted to maneuver around her and get to her fallen fawn. Finally, as the smell of the hot blood filled the air, the doe seemed to understand that all was lost and she backed off to a safe distance from the wolves. Panting, Raven remained in place, golden eyes locked onto the doe in case she decided to renew her attack while their backs were turned. It was an unnecessary precaution, however, as the doe soon turned and wandered away, looking disoriented and lost.

Raven felt no remorse. It was the way of the world to eat or be eaten, and the hunter had to survive. She turned to where her companion feasted at the belly and, eyeing him warily, began to gnaw on a tender rear haunch. The fresh meat and warm blood were, at that moment, the most wonderful thing she'd experienced in her life, and suddenly she felt very glad to have met this stranger and been invited along on this hunt.