Snowforest Taiga living without you

Something in the trees diverted her attention temporarily; a sparrow or something else small and frightened, and so for a few seconds her eyes traced the graze-line, the henge of dark branches. Her head raised briefly as she did this; then, when a sound emanated from the dirt a few feet away, her brow raised.

The woman sniffed, her snout wrinkling, and then set about striding towards the hollow again. She bypassed it and hoisted herself up the ridge in to which the hole had been dug, and appeared more interested in the forest — vanishing among the shadows. She came out a few minutes later, a squirrel hanging from her teeth, wriggling against the cage of her grip until it choked and died.

Thereafter, she descended from the ridge. Stryx stopped when a flicker of light caught on a wet nose, and she saw the subtle curves of a face nearing the den's entrance. She dropped the squirrel immediately and licked her muzzle clean, but said nothing. The squirrel — not as dead as it appeared before — kicked at the air and rolled to its tiny feet, but was too dazed to know how dangerous the situation was.