Firestone Hot Springs viiii. i was born to fight, to rage, to war

@Rosencrantz

The dove grey hours of dawn would find her wrenching awake with a gasp, violet gaze wild as it swept over the still slumbering forms of her companions. Silently, restlessly, the corvid would rise and pad into the embrace of the standing grass - uncontent with the notion of idling as she waited for the others to awaken. 

Drift through the waves of forage she would, releasing the sweet perfume of hay with each step - lost in her aimless thoughts until the unmistakeable tang of blood curled invitingly against her rosebud nose. It was distinctly prey, drawing her shoulders forward into a hunter's crouch as chewed lips parted to strengthen the potency of such a mouth-watering fragrance. 

With new intent, the nightwisp canted - the sea of grass waving and rippling with her motions - falling to a halt as she neared the heated springs, where the source of the scent originated. 

Spiraling outwards, Rhælla would happen upon the young and injured fawn a short distance away - concealing herself in the grass as she determined how best to dispatch the adolescent and transport it back to her company.