Lone Star Mountain porcelain knife

in for a penny, in for a pound. such had always been her way of thinking.

take the child. gives the new one something to bond to, no? she dropped her head low and huffed the air in long breaths. she wished to move upon them now. she did not want to make this a long war but the quick stabs of a raid.

she pressed her path down upon unknown scents. thundering up when needed, prowling when trails narrowed down.