Shadowwyn Moor click clack said the creaking bones

Daytime was a wretched time, normally. Blanketed in warmth and the reassurance of safety for those who had eyes to spot plain danger. It cursed the predator and favored the prey - a weak concept. Warmth bred vegetation, and vegetation brought the pestilence of population, most complacent and incompetent in the true art of survival. The leeches of existence.

How this beast despised them.

And so as the sun declared the hours as its own, though it fought with rolling clouds in its sky, the monstrous creature kept herself to the barren moors to the southeast. Flat stone beds patched the ground where the climate seemed to banish any vegetation attempting to grow more than a foot, with only a few daring and bare trees in the distance. Here, indeed, she could see as far as her dagger-like stare could reach, but the violent and rampant winds whipping left then right then from behind were most unwelcoming. As though vines were lashing out, parting her fur in the most chaotic and unpredictable manner, though it only wielded air.

Noire much preferred this land, its emptiness and unceasing aggression.
Here no weak could cheat their way to the next day. And it would be here she knew her time would not be wasted.

A low rumble in her throat as the bitch tread slowly but with purpose through this unclaimed lands, satisfaction brewing with each strike of wind against her. Satisfaction in her resistance, her ability to stand her own. Though, admittedly, there were greater feats to be proud of, like the eek of a last breath or the metallic tang between her teeth. Beaded eyes squinted at the thought, bitterly and longingly.

She was bored.

@Arbiter