Dawnlark Plains Hungry, hungry

The frost-crusted grass crunched beneath Sivaak's paws as she prowled along the tree line, her crimson gaze fixed on the herd of deer grazing in the clearing ahead.

The air was sharp and still, her breath curling in faint tendrils as she crept closer. Among the herd, her eyes locked onto an elderly doe—frail, slow, and perfectly vulnerable. Her lips curled faintly.

Just as she began to move, the snap of a twig shattered the silence. The herd startled, bounding away in a frenzy of hooves and snow, their panicked cries fading into the distance. Sivaak froze, her blood boiling as her opportunity vanished with them.

Her head snapped around, her eyes narrowing into slits as she scanned the brush for the source of the disruption. Her hackles rose, and a low growl rumbled in her throat.

"Show yourself. Sivaak be merciful.".