Blackfoot Forest blood & iron

The two, for their time spent here, brought down their quarry with an effectiveness to be envied. It was easy, this, and natural. She had not been hungry to start, but by the end Ikkalrok was; she dug into one, eating her fill, and looking to him with bloodied chops to again invite him nearer, this time to sup with her. She breathed hard for their efforts, which lay in a sea of red around them. Blood and matted fur. Ikkalrok suspected she saw more grisly substance upon his shoulder, and removed herself from her meal to groom him.

She cared very little for appearances, but the grooming of her packmates and their grooming of her had ever made her feel closer to them; this, though, was far more a personal thing. Few had been permitted then, and perhaps here only he would be to do the same. Her large head pressed, then, against the spot she had groomed as though to say, you are mine. She had decided. Huffing, she withdrew to look at their successful endeavor. The Tartok woman felt she had chosen wisely. Looking back to him, her gaze simply seemed to ask, where to, now?

He answered promptly enough, and Ikkalrok followed him, keeping to his side—all the way to his home.