Dawnlark Plains Hungry, hungry

Sivaak’s crimson gaze snapped toward the source of the voice, her lips peeling back in a snarl. The figure that emerged from the trees was shadowed, his cool stare meeting hers without hesitation. His lack of fear did little to temper her anger; if anything, it only stoked the fire.

"The deer," she growled, her voice low and rough, "live because you are clumsy."

"You cost me my kill," she continued, the edge in her tone like the crack of ice underfoot. "Help get new one."