Ankyra Sound The huntress

Sivaak watched her, something in waiting just behind the glossy sheen of her crimson stare. It enraptured Sobeille, chewed her up, crushed her like big jaws and big teeth waiting to consume. Only the faintest twitch of Sivaak's features; short, round ears and a large, bold nose gave way that she was even sentient.

She simply chewed. Chewed. Tore more, chewed more, then swallowed. A large paw had taken to holding down the carcass as she ravaged it, stringy flesh squelching betwixt molars.

The question was sudden, but no less unexpected. Sivaak finished chewing, finished eating, a rather unclimactic close to a morbid meal. She lifted a foreleg to wipe inky, sticky blood from her maw and smacked her teeth together.

"Sivaak hail from distant shores. Sea is black, sands are black. Wolves strong. Wolves kill. Hunt is the way, nothing more, nothing less." Her pink, fleshy tongue swiped across her mouth and she then made to close the distant between her and the strange girl.

Beady eyes of malice bore through her. Sivaak was not hungry. She was sated. Yet, still, she looked at her as if she were something to be hunted. Hunted, or kept. It had been some time since Sivaak had a slave. Once, when she was bloodchief, she had many. Many weaklings, runts, to heed her. Hm.

This one was no weakling. Runt, maybe. But not weak. Sivaak could sense that. "Sivaak of the Muradoii."

Sivaak did not care enough to ask the strange girl where she came from.