Kildeer Rest trappings of starlight

The wind bit harder this hour, but she welcomed the sting. It sharpened her already-keen senses, curled cold through her thick coat like a second skin. The scent came first—blood, fresh and warm. Meat. Not from a kill of theirs. Tikigâk, inherently alert, lowered her head to snuffle bearishly at the earth seeking to learn of those that had passed through, both long ago and most recently. Wolfscent, mostly, with the stale scent of a mountain lion that had gone through the territory before all of the rest. Still, cause to be on the lookout—she gestured to the earth for Faust so he too could know this. 

The fawnsblood had been shed by wolf. But a cougar might still lurk if this were its own home base, and it returned. Tikigâk remained aware. Her gaze met that of her mates and she presses against him. She is with him. Hyper territorial, and cognizant of the young of theirs she might soon become heavy with, Tikigâk was inclined to warn off any that might steal resources meant for her own. Darukaal, now, had also become this. 

She moved at his side, prowling steadily forward and matching his stride. Each step she took was deliberate—her weight settled into the earth like the promise of a death sentence. Her dark gold eyes appeared black in this light, flat and cold as she scoured the horizon for the hunter. 

No haste in her slow step, even when her gaze landed upon her. 

Tikigâk said nothing, did nothing, but watch—for now. Her ears cupped forward, expectant and listening to the wilds.