Sun Mote Copse the bent-neck lady

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Gradually the beast became aware of the scent in the air - it was pungent, but dulled by the frost. It made his belly rumble even before he recognized it. And as he came upon the scene of a disemboweled carcass topped by a voracious wolf (likely hungrier than Tulimaq), the wolf paused. This was something he hadn't seen in the grasslands of the east, at least not as often as he was accustomed. There seemed to be ample prey in the summerland which led to the wolves therein becoming passive creatures, and the more he studied the volatile beast that lay claim to the rotting dead thing, the bolder Tulimaq felt. This was what he was used to. Fighting tooth and claw for every scrap, demanding the world bow to your will rather than letting everything go to waste. Food, land, time — Tulimaq wasn't going to let himself grow complacent in a place like that. No wonder he had become so bitter in his travels.

The creature that claimed the corpse was formidable in stature, but Tulimaq couldn't tell if it was the stranger's natural bulk or merely his attitude that impressed him. He wasn't dissuaded by the show of fangs and posturing. To test this stranger's abilities Tulimaq got closer and closer, tail raising like a banner as he puffed himself up in competition with the grey-clad beast. In truth he was not hungry enough to pry this carcass away from its current visitor, but he was always itching for a fight.