Haunted Wood I want my caviar in a heart shaped bowl

something prickles along her spine as she hunts for the source of the cackle, the sifting figures in the snow. the girl is no great tracker, but somehow, she gets lucky; distantly, she spots a pair of careful silhouettes making their way toward the border; the latter of which drags something with it. 

she turns away, making to give them a wide berth and she lopes to overtake them. when she is certain that she is in front of the pair, she circles back with bared fangs and dagger-like hackles, driving straight at them. one turns back and bolts, unknowingly, in the direction of Vanity. the second drops its prize and lunges straight for her.