Dawnlark Plains Hungry, hungry

sorry for delay!!

sivaak emerges from the trees like a shadow made flesh, her crimson eyes fixed on the fallen doe and the wolf standing over it. the scent of blood and sweat fills her nostrils, sharp and familiar, and her lips curl faintly, revealing a flash of stained teeth.

you hunt well, she growls, the words rough and pointed as her gaze sweeps over randolf, assessing him. the scrape on his shoulder, the tension still coiled in his frame, the way his breath puffs steadily in the cold air—he is strong. capable.

he would make for a good sire of children, she thinks. then lets the thought disappear the moment it came.

her gaze snaps back to randolf. you take what you need, then go.