Kintla Flatlands Cold bones

"Ruenna Redfern," Rue supplied, the surname feeling a little odd on her tongue. For two years she had introduced herself as Ruenna Of Red Fern Glade, but that title was no more. In its place she had fashioned herself a new surname to honor her roots, as she had come to see was common practice among lone wolves. This was the first time she had spoken the new name aloud. 

There was a pause, and then a questioning look from her new aquiantance. Liri Tonrar. "I thought you might be interested in a hunt," Rue suggested, letting her gaze swing back out to the herd beasts below. Now that she was closer to Liri, she could smell the pack-scent that clung to the woman's alabaster coat. That was disappointing-- a pack wolf was unlikely to be tempted into a hunt with a stranger. Even if the pair did manage to make a kill, it was even less likely that the woman would share it with Rue. That was the way of the world. The wolf with the pack behind her would make the rules. 

Nevertheless, Rue allowed her offer to remain. Rue was hungry, and right now the prospect of a fresh kill seemed worth the effort-- even if she only managed to choke down a few bites before the pack wolf chased her off. Just tasting blood in her mouth again would be a welcome change.