Grouse Thicket And just a little too honest to believe that I am saved

WC: 542
....Oh, hello there... <3

--------------------------------------------------

Due to all the sensory overload she’d been experiencing as of late- what with Tegan’s return, Caiaphas’ leadership challenge and finding out that Screech was actually still alive and had kidnapped Ceara- there was nothing Niamh wanted more than to go out, get some time to herself, and kill something. Preferably something that she could eat, too, as she was not only angry but hungry, and a hangry Niamh was never a pretty sight. She’d not said much since she had found out about Screech’s mysterious ability to pull himself back from the dead and join probably the worst group of wolves ever, and had wound her way along the borders until she’d come to the thicket, which was her usual hunting place. A bird would suffice, she figured- then she could take her anger out with each mouthful of feathers that she plucked from its body. And then use to those to line her den, almost as though in revenge.

She caught the scent of carrion and was immediately interested. Niamh wasn’t picky when it came to food, and even if it had been dead for a few days she’d still eat it. If she didn’t have to put any effort into killing something, she’d definitely not complain about a free meal. She remembered the last time she’d found a dead deer not too far away- she and a pretty white wolf had gone head to head over it, and she’d somehow ended up losing almost the entire kill. At least she’d been able to fill her belly before the pretty white wolf had made off with the rest of the remains, though. She’d have to be smarter about it this time.

She approached, and saw another wolf feasting first, snapping at the vultures who had gathered around the kill, and at first, she didn’t recognize the tawny woman. It wasn’t until she got a bit closer and narrowed her gaze, catching the female’s scent over the scent of meat that she finally realized who it was- and with everything else in her life that had just gone sour, Niamh’s mood darkened. She remembered Rosalyn. The pack had taken her in when she’d been weak and hurt, and she’d left without so much as a thank you….It had pissed Raven off to no end at the time, and Niamh had been sent out searching for her, to deal out her punishment. Rosalyn was one of several names on Niamh’s hit-list...But she was the first one who’d managed to wander right into her sight.

”Rosalyn, you bitch,” She hissed. Probably more hostile than Rosalyn would have ever expected her to be; the last time Niamh had seen her, she’d brought the injured female a meal. ”You ungrateful wench!” She growled, and hurtled toward the brown figure, not only intending to chase her away from the meal, but to dole out a punishment for having taken advantage of her pack’s kindness. She’d had enough of that lately, and would be damned if she was simply going to let Rosalyn take from them yet again. She charged directly at the beautiful auburn wolf, finally glad to have an excuse to go savage on someone.

--------------------------------------------------