pretty when you cry

Caiaphas had been busy of late; like a wraith she committed herself to the lost region, deadbent on discovering and familiarizing herself with every aspect of the province. The dominion of Stavangar had been thoroughly explored after her meeting with Ragnar -- but she had deliberately made a promise with the alpha she had elected not to deliver.

She had half the mind to take advantage of their cache -- it was likely a 'packmate' would not challenge her for being there, and her gut was practically snarling with hunger. The fish she had nicked from Autumn had been scarcely enough to tide her over the travel -- the long trek from the mountains to the sea had left her irritable and famished.

Drawing closer to the Bay she adopted a stealthy trot with her streamlined and lanky body elegantly pressed close to the earth; her savagely thin muzzle held low and her fierce yellow eyes outward. She would have stolen right into the Bay's fold were it not for the form of a wolf she saw ahead. Crestfallen but electing to disguise her emotions, she stalked towards the wolf purposely. The female was unknown to her, a pale agouti thing that looked about as healthy as the drowned raccoon Caiaphas had discovered that morning. She even looked sickly; Caiaphas inspected her carefully, drawing close without fear. When they were within several feet the coywolf stepped into the water, saying nothing as she watched and awaited the fellow creature's reaction.