Iktome Plains i have begun to admire

when ailill is tracking or on the hunt he tends to slip into a one track state of mind. the smells of varying prey animals is prominent and he's set his own mission perimeters and he zeroes in like a sniper filing the world through the crosshairs of their scope. there's one target and the fact that something else is blocking his vision takes him by surprise. it gives him a slight start as the scent of another wolf becomes insistent the closer he unintentionally draws to her and he gives a soft shake of his head to reshape his focus. the warrior in him will not allow him to stay so ignorant to the rest of his surroundings.

if not for the fog earlier in the week burning off and the melt of the snows to expose the terrain they'd blanketed she might've been easy to slip past. as it was, she stands out in contrast to the golden and emerald clusters of bunchgrass. his golden gaze is drawn to her — a quick assessment made as he studies her from afar — she is a pale sylph of a woman, covered in pale pink scars, her head held high. he considers just walking past her but his tracking has been interrupted and that'd be rude.

hey. ailill offers in greeting, foregoing the usual chuff because he doesn't doubt she's aware of his presence.