Boartusk Heights on the brighter side of grey

Well, that worked.

Wren huffed too, more amusement than anything as the boar was thrown down the mountain. It hit the bottom with a final squeal, pained and fearful. The sickening crunch was the end of it. She didn't wince, too practiced with ending prey to feel bad for them for long. What could she say now, though? Good job? Seemed a bit patronizing. She opted for silence - just for now.

Until she collected her thoughts. A nod was given to the female, still ignorant of the very faint pack scent here. The Teekons were an array of many smells and she was still adjusting. Coming from a different climate all together, Wren had to be more careful. She stood in relative quietness, a pink tongue peeking from her lips to lap idly at the bleeding cheek. It didn't hurt very much even after the andrenaline wore off.