Bitterroot Valley take a gamble that love exists

for @Barrett ? <3

the woman moved through the open valley with long strides, each one softer, quieter than the last. lost to her prowl, her head was low and nose stalk cold against the wintery pelt blanketing the floor.

the bitterroot lay dormant now, though she could smell them beneath the earth, their fuchsia blooms waiting for warmer seasons. yet, ravah knew this land that sega had picked for his band held life even in the thick of winter. such life, even now, it clung to the rocks, buried itself in the dry soil, hid along the river edge.

and even limped.

she had picked up the elk’s trail hours ago. her hoofprints dragged as if painful, and the uneven depth of each step, spoke to her more than laying eyes could. she was a wounded doe, not young, but not old. strong enough to run; she would make for a good hunt, and her death would preserve the rest of the herd.

cull the weak.

ravah’s silver coat blends against the pale ground as she follows the doe's winding path. her eyes have turned to thin slits of focus, ears angling forward with each soft sound ahead.