Felltree Marsh A coat of red

The stillness she left behind was fleeting; minutes later, the crunch of snow signaled her return. Emerging from the thicket, she carried another kill—this time a hare, its thin, lifeless body limp in her bloodied jaws.

She strode forward with purpose, the hare swinging with each step, and without ceremony, dropped to the ground near Sobeille. Sivaak settled herself, stretching out with an air of indifference. The hare lay between her forepaws as she leaned down, tearing into it with brutal efficiency. Her crimson gaze stayed fixed on the meal, not sparing even a flicker of attention toward her captive.

When Sivaak finished, she pushed herself to her paws with a heavy exhale, shaking loose fragments of blood and fur from her muzzle. She glanced briefly toward the distant horizon, as if gauging their next move, and then began walking. Her steps were firm and deliberate, carving a path further inland through the snow and frost-laden earth.

A single glance backward was all she offered before continuing onward, her tail flicking behind her—a wordless command for Sobeille to follow. Shortly thereafter, the woman spoke. "Why strange girl does not run?" Her voice gurgled, as if she still had chunks of flesh caught in her throat. Truthfully, Sivaak had expected more pushback. Then, Sivaak would have the joy of hunting her down.

Did she not value freedom?