Dragoncrest Cliffs rumble slow

She paused over a dead bird of some kind, the corpse so bedraggled that it was barely recognizable. Had it died, fallen into the sea and washed ashore? Haunt bent to sniff at it, her nose wrinkling at the odor of decay. From what little she knew about avian prey, there was hardly any meat on their bones. That was how they could get airborne, she assumed. It meant they were hardly worth the effort of hunting, much less scavenging.

Haunt moved on along the beach, glancing over her shoulder when she sensed someone behind her. She was a little surprised to see the same young she-wolf who had refused her presence just yesterday. There were no hard feelings on Haunt's part, though. She was often a solitary creature, especially while hunting, so she understood.

But she couldn't help but wonder, "What were you hunting? Yesterday?"