Sea Lion Shores what's the use of stacking on every failure, another stone

She stood proudly over her captive like some great warrior slung over the slain; her needly chest puffed and her tufts of fur stirring wildly in the seabreeze. The tittering stopped and she grew eerily silent, standing still like some gaunt and unafraid crypt-keeper. There stayed within the feral depths of her eyes a primordial glint; she pressed firmly on the back of the babe's head and watched without pity as the thing drowned unceremoniously under her heavy will.

She felt, vaguely, a sense that she was being observed. Whether or not she was being watched would not have affected the seal's outcome; sliding her eyes away from the corpse of the seal she bespied a tall and lanky wolf drabbed in agouti watching her. Nonplussed, she dragged the limp thing from the shoal and turned to face the wolf -- her thin muzzle lifted to sift from the air any scent that proclaimed her pack affiliation. Finding nothing, she remained silent; her yellow eyes glancing across the female's sea-green gaze with mild curiosity.