Otter Creek if only for a while

@Cicero :)

The morning brings a still to the land. Perhaps in the distance there is a morning bird, pestering the Wilds with its woes, though there is a general sense of calm brought on by the quiet of the slow rise. One femme still has yet to awaken from her slumber; Zhenya takes her time in rising from where she lay, splaying out her limbs as she stretches the kinks from her joints. She stands, first shaking out her fur, then each individual limb, before taking a moment to examine the view as she had atop the mesa. That same pungent odor lingers in the air, luring Zhenya nearer to their border, though she is still doubtful.

A slight movement in a nearby bush catches her attention, and she crouches into position, wiggling her hindquarters as she gauges the prey. Small, yet large enough for a temporary hold. Zhenya lunges forward and into the foliage, landing a strong grip on the animal's neck. Though bleeding herself, all she seems to notice is the warmth filling her body in feeling the otter attempting to wriggle free. It was nothing compared to that same fighting drive of a concious pup, though it had close to the same effect. вячэру.

Her head lifted high, she looks around the area for any possible threats, then dips her head and begins to peel back the fur.