Deepwood Weald I go my own way

Inch by inch, the fluffy white hide of the rabbit peeled back, revealing the ripened flesh beneath. She adjusted her hold with her teeth, gingerly working her way down the inside of the legs, towards the chest. Her tail wagged absent mindedly again. She couldn't remember the last time she had paid so much attention to detail.  

Or when she felt so at peace.

It wasn't destined to last. As is so often happened in the wild, someone or something else came edging in with hopes of trying to steal what wasn't theirs. The crunch of snow being disturbed underfoot made her pause mid bite, the swishing of her tail ceasing. All movement of her jaws and head stopped. She stilled, save for the backwards pivot of her ears, like horns. She knew he was there, behind her. Slowly, deliberately, she turned around to face him, but did not rise. Ears still poised in their tilted upright position, she resumed her work with an oddly calm air of self-assurance, fixing his eyes with hers. If he dared come an inch closer, he would find that the scent of the Nightwalkers was near nonexistent on her fur.