Cedar Sweep From the wight lying in the barrow

As she trudged back toward the Copse, Niamh meandreed along the edge of the cedar forest, stopping to take note of a tree where the bark had been stripped and presumably eaten. It was late afternoon and the shadows had grown long as they filtered down through the evergreen forest, sunbeams streaking through gaps in the branches overhead and leaning sideways as though trying to hold the tall trees up. She knew that at this time of day, in a cedar forest, she would likely find traces left behind by a herd of deer- and the fact that they'd already been through, stripping the cedar trees of their bark was a promising sign. 

She wasn't terribly hungry- her apetite had yet to return, but she did have two pups to feed, and felt the need to sink her teeth into flesh and tear it. A deer wouldn't fight back the same way a wolf would, but it would be good enough, plus she'd be able to feed her kids. In neutral territory, she had no idea if she'd find any other wolves to hunt with her- but that wouldn't stop her from tracking the herd down. 

It was relatively easy- they'd begun to move from the forest and out toward Frogspawn Swamp where they might graze in the fading light of day. Niamh watched them from the edge of the forest and began to move along the clearing's edge in hopes of finding a hunting partner- anyone that could possibly help her bring down one of this year's fawns which had, by now, grown to be nearly the height of an adult, but not nearly as robust or strong. It'd make a fine meal, and there were several to choose from. Now all she needed was an assist.