Dragoncrest Cliffs o, tempora! o, mores!

It made the tips of her ears burn with shame, including the one she no longer bore. She had thrown the sealskin on the cave floor in anger, then forgotten about it for several days, and now it was ruined. She had wasted her leader's gift. For the next while, Haunt walked around kicking herself about it, taking momentary breaks to pine for her brother's presence.

Today, she decided to do something more constructive with her time than inwardly spiral. She left the territory to scout the Broken Antler herd, making notes on the growing fawns among them. There were still three of them, two of them belonging to one doe and the other to another. All six does were accounted for along with the stag, whose current summer rack belied the herd's name.

Feeling uplifted after such productive use of her time, Haunt made her way back toward Sapphique. She couldn't help but think about one of the fawns, one of the two in the pairing. It looked a little sickly compared to its sibling and cousin. Perhaps it would make a good target for the pack, if they could be organized and mobilized in the near future...

The sound of a shriek made Haunt stop short and blink to a focus. She caught sight of the red she-wolf from a distance, shaking the life out of a squirrel. She shook it so long and so violently, the pale yearling actually took a step backward. She paused when the woman devoured her kill, her single ear tilting backward uncertainly at the brutal display.