Emberflame Ridge skill, not emotion, sends my arrow flying

It had been a very long day and an empty one too, if you did not count the leming Wraen had caught for a meagre breakfast in the morning. She had thought that exploring new hunting grounds would bring her luck - it was usually the case, but this time it was not. Stunning sights and viewing of prospective hunting grounds were all good and well, but they did not feed you. 

Meat did and meat she caught a whiff of, when she entered the ridge. Her empty stomach growled, her mouth filled with saliva at a prospect of having something, anything in her belly. Yet soon it turned out that this would not be so easy, because there was a keen guardian sitting right next to the plate with the delicious entrails in them. Wraen weighed out her options (not great) and compared it to her desperation (a bit bigger) and multiplied this with a willingness to try. 

Therefore she approached slowly and carefully, not particularly hiding her intent of having at least some bit of that other wolf's property with her eyes gleaming and expression telling of her hunger and determination. At a polite distance, however, she came to a halt and scrutinized he would be opponent, evaluating him, before making a move.