Blacktail Deer Plateau Why you gotta be so cold --

it rushed her, overwhelming the woman, standing each hair upon edge; it drove her to wrath, to territoriality, to the edge of her teeth. she set them upon the tang of the air, testing, testing. the season had not truly bloomed in erzulie yet, but it was coming, and swiftly.
her children had been sent away, and she was pleased to see that the first of her careful preparations had been handled.
the new sensations burned away her hunger and left in its place a vague restlessness that drove erzulie to a patrol, where she discovered the distinctly feminine fragrance of a trespasser.
the beta set her jaw, began to hunt alone the trail. cinnamon ears cupped forward with deadly interest at movement near the rocky edge of rusalka, the hint of metal that weighed heavily in the wind. erzulie prowled forward in an open stalk, one she did not bother to veil against the snow, two-toned gaze fixed with an inexorable and horrid intensity.