Flycatcher Downs but you lie

this day, she went south of the valley. what was intended to be a patrol had grown to be a hunt, as her stomach grew angrier and angrier with the lack of food. wintertime had the teekons in an iron grip, unrelenting, though today was oddly beautiful ; the cool orange of a rising sun, akin to the gaze in which she scanned the lands with.

pale figure could not hide for long. many of her lineage stood white amongst the snow, and so it grew easier to spot a wolf, white just as she was. snow crunched underfoot as she surrendered any potential grace in favour of moving quickly, tail swaying high above her rump ; a display of dominance. spring would be coming around soon. the valley had to be well protected, and though they had guards, nanuralaaq enjoyed the work.

you approach bearclaw valley, came her voice, projected across the downs. downwind, too, whispered the instincts of a huntress. perhaps they had both gathered here for the same purpose. snowwoman stepped closer, surveying. looking upwards to do so, as she was much bigger than the polar-cub who assessed. she stopped in her tracks, then, gaze unwavering, almost defiant in the way a girl may be, though muscled like a woman made for the hunt of the thunderous beasts. an interrogation, now.

for what reason are you so close?