Dragoncrest Cliffs o, tempora! o, mores!

she was thinking squirrel, but—

she turns to Haunt with an intrigued gleam in her eye, nodding at the words. she's noticed the deer scent but has been too weak to pursue it. at least, pursue it alone. but with Haunt. . .

fawhn, Avicus repeats, and shakes her head emphatically. nothing more she can say; she waits and watches the pale woman expectantly, ready for her to lead the way. if there is no response—

i foh-yow, she adds.

her tongue slips from her mouth, revealing bloodstained ivory fangs. she cleans the crimson from them, still holding the other wolf's gaze.