Jade Fern Grove give me that secret hush i must yes i do need [m]

Under the cover of the night, Isleña hunted.

She moved along silently, with all the presence of a shadowed eidolon; and for all the life around her, none of it was aware of her being. Her paws were placed carefully upon the ground, soundlessly. Her fur, dark as the night with a warm autumnal tint, was nearly indescribable from the dark matter all around her. The banshee’s scent, however, was strong from her communal living with wolves of the same blood — but Isleña positioned herself downwind so as to not broadcast her presence in this place. When she lost the element of surprise, Isleña’s chances of a successful hunt [or kill, or fuck] dwindled greatly. 

It was a rarity that Isleña slept through the night, so she found herself becoming increasingly more of a nocturnal creature. She stirred only when the others were asleep and slunk off into the night to do god knows what; stir up whatever trouble she might find, or procure food for her family to indulge upon whence morning came, something, anything to keep her mind and body busy. It was in her sleep that the nightmares came, so it was something that Isleña went to great length to avoid, often to her own detriment. 

A rustle in the woods. A scent upon the breeze. The banshee’s faculties snapped to attention while the rest of her body fell still and close to the earth. As the only part of her being that she bade movement, her ocean eyes searched her immediate surroundings for the scent and sound’s origin. At first, it was as difficult for her to see others as it was for them to see her, but before long — there! She saw it. A doe and her calf, likely of late birth given how it was still small and weak. 

The lean muscles of Islena’s legs knotted themselves in anticipation of a short burst of motion. Her mouth clamped shut upon itself and salivated endlessly; her tongue lay virile just behind her teeth and lashed against its confines, wishing to be freed. Even with this, the woman-luk remained still and did not deign to do anything but watch the mother and child as they shuffled through the undergrowth and razored away at the edges of leaves. It was almost too perfect of an opportunity, with an ungulate small enough for her to fell herself, yet large enough to feed her roving group for several meals. Still Isleña watched, her entire body a tight ball of tension and anticipation, but mind eerily calm and soothed in the presence of such sweetness. The deer continued to move on noisily, tails swishing against their rumps, and Isleña’s carefully trained gaze followed the two until they were out of sight. Then, like the deer themselves, Isleña moved on to find different, less lovely fare. 

What the family didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them.