Moonspear hunger.

A rabbit hung from her maw- a usual treat for Desdemona. She seemed to recently found a love for the small, fast critter, despite tastes usually falling with the geese. Now that winter was coming, those who fly in the skies were becoming quite scarce, and even too, the rabbits were starting to lay a den.

Up the mountain did the guard go, her paws drifting toward where a cache was.