Shadowwyn Moor another world

Sulukinak's ears flicked back at the sound of the stranger's approach, her sharp gaze narrowing as the wind carried his scent to her—male, young, soft in the way that did not belong to hunters. She did not answer at first, her eyes locked on the staggering caribou as it fought against the inevitability of its fate.

Why not let him? she replied at last, her voice low, tinged with a bitterness she did not bother to hide. Misery is the way of things. Her breath clouded in the air as she turned her head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye.

Do you pity him, soft one? Sulukinak's tone was sharp, though not unkind, testing the resolve of the wolf who had dared to interrupt her vigil.