Blacktail Deer Plateau tick tock tick tock

it has been a hell of a winter.

Zelda feels it in her gut, the yawning void where a satiated tummy should be. she feels it in the absence of flesh on her bones and in the irritation constantly simmering under the surface. hungry, hangry, haggard. she must feast and she must do it soon, lest—

wolves! their caches are always full of meat; her much larger, distant relatives eat quite more than she does. what qualms could they have with her sneaking a piece or two?

just a morsel, just a morsel. . . she shimmies along the border and then across it, their scent heavy in her nostrils. she tries to keep it at bay as she searches for the sharp tang of fresh-kill instead. wolves mean little to her, beyond their role as the keepers of food.

let them come. she is too quick for them.

conflict interaction dice rolls with Zelda can be found in her profile!