Wapun Meadow Still getting old, space is still getting cold, space is

She approached with her gaze still lifted, as if expecting the man to have left the food behind as a trap to lure her in. But with her husband approaching as well, it would have been a foolish choice. She saw no sign of the pale loner as she approached, tail waving in an arc above her hips to signal that she had no interest in being challenged. 

Not that there was much to argue over, anyway- tufts of fur, and blood spatter. She snorted, lightly disappointed to receive neither a snack nor an altercation. She turned toward her approaching mate, and dropped into a play-bow as if to fend him off from the remains, only to see that he'd changed his course, and had begun marking. She smiled and rose, trotting toward him. 

She bristled to communicate her approval, and passed by him  so that she could add her scent to his- and assure any passing hunters that they'd be traipsing into hunting territory if they came too close.