Ankyra Sound round and round, like the moon

Streaked pink and crimson from a very recent kill, Bethlehem made her way impetuously down the coast. She was eager to parade herself around; her ego dictating that she showboat before needing to cater to the scent of death that clung to her like scented nettles. She thought that any respectable wolf, any wolf worthy of the queen's companionship, would find her to be a sight bold and impressive. Any other points of view weren't tolerated. The she-wolf, feeling sated and absent anxiety, strutted neatly along the shoreline so that she might use the superior sunset/oceanside view as a background to her staggering worth.

She was disappointed to find a ragged half-breed in her path. He was ghost-slim, wet, and a lack of sure-footing made him utterly unappetizing to the Ironfrost. She snarled, snapping her teeth at him in an effort to chase him out of her way.