Blackfoot Forest demons of the dark

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she'd moved past the plain on her return, simply veering south and moving until her paws were heavy and the day's colours had faded. she passed Easthollow and moved south still, mind heavy and shoulder's hunched. she was far from finished sorting through her thoughts, through her conversation with Alarian, but the cries of foxes grew ever-louder as she moved, pulling apart her strings of thought with every wailing cry. 

the huntress paused, irate, ears flickering into the wood as aimlessness shifted into purpose, and she moved carefully, now, paws light where they had been heavy. nostrils flared as if to taste the air, lobes swiveling atop her head and occasionally latching onto some disturbance before setting into motion again. in this manner she continued deeper into the wood; the foxes, smart bastards, moving out of her way as soon as her presence was realized, their calls faltering each time she neared. 

this one, however, was different, and in the moments she took to pinpoint his clashing call he did not falter nor shift position. watching, first, then the careful stalk, the reveal and the pursuit. tired actions she'd performed time and time again, yet requiring the utmost precision. luck, and the thick-headed boldness of the fox, afforded her this kill. another scream sounded, this one the cry of an animal dying, and the others faded quickly, leaving only echoes and far-off cries.