Grouse Thicket An Irishman walks out of the bar

@Caiaphas 

Some time had passed, since Apple had met that lovely young man Lucca, who had claimed to come from a nearby Blackthorn clan. At that time it had not elicited much interest in her, because truly - her family members were like fleas scattered accross the world map and just waiting to infest a new coat. But now, few weeks later, when she still had not come accross a single soul, she began to think that it would not hurt to meet someone. A Blackthorn or not.

She had settled down in a nice field for time being, hunting her fill of muskrats and other small rodents that were foolish enough to consider the old, fat she-wolf slow and harmless. Looks were deceiving, but every little critter that got it's spine crushed in Apple's jaws realized it just a second too late. She could be amazingly swift and agile for a wolf that looked like fluffy piggy-bank from afar. And quite ferocious, when it came to tearing bigger fellows apart and crunching their bones. The predatory side of Apple contrasted a great deal with her generally happy demeanor. 

But the little, old lady did not care much about that. Finished with one rat, she went on to find her next victim, prowling in the still green grass like an oversized cat.