Bramblepoint The hunger revealing

Patience was a virtue and there was nothing virtuous about her, from birth she had the title of deadly sin, she had no room for the sweet, dainty little attributes bestowed by the heavens. Hadn't been taught em'. She let his muzzle raise her head, dark-tipped ears splaying to the sides.

But.... She couldn't exactly do anything about it. Cruelly, the world withheld choice, forced them to go until they found something.. somewhere, worthwhile. Problem was, he was probably used to this sort of thing, mercenary, killer by trade n' all.

She wasn't. She was a poor traveller. She was used to small worlds, desertion a punishable offense, every step gained on the ladder a matter of cunning and real, tangible skill; the blanket of power and protection. How strange it was, to abandon everything you knew. Times like these she felt like a child, ill-adapted to the world she was given.

She was daunted by the sheer breadth of everything beyond the borders of packs and yet all the same, unimpressed by it. Freedom in excess was just..

Overwhelming.

She chose boring. Wretch needed structure and purpose. The wind's picking up. She grumbles as she lets out a sigh and picks at the hare, at least its blood was warm on her tongue. What have you found, around here?

He had been looking, following the scents on the breeze when she rested. She appreciated it, though she wouldn't say it in words.