Kintla Flatlands Yet I’m still running, still going

Greyfalcon had been walking toward the borders of Ravensthorpe, her pre nightly patrol of the land. Lately she had been slightly restless within herself, so along the patrol she thought she might try to hunt some small game for the packs Cache.

She looked around, being alert. Many things started to come out at dusk, not all of them good willed. She picked up the scent of game, and trailed it she found what was making the smell. A rabbit, with little ones trailing behind it. She turned away, not to make a sound and hunted some other small game.

her own hunt had taken her from the mountain pass and through the outskirts of a forest (heartwood) before the various scents of game drew her north.
she found bears milling about a river and was tempted to give chase to them, to see if they had caught any salmon; zharille had no patience left to stand around and fish the way the beasts did. in the end she fjorded a crossing.
the scent of rabbits was plentiful.
zharille rarely sought small game; not that she lacked the ability to chase, but oftentimes the payout of meat was not enough to satisfy her stomach.
regardless, zharille had not eaten in many days now and knew she would have to break her fast, and soon, so that her body would be welcoming to her season when it came. the ogre-woman roamed further, oblivious to the fact she was not alone—or, also likely, uncaring and unafraid.

She lifted her head, a feeling deep inside that she had been watched. She looked around, smelled another scent. A loner perhaps, the scent was strong on the wind, another females scent. 

She continued to walk, now even more alert, though with a calm head. Had the loner decided to show, she would greet them…. Perhaps they were hungry, worn from journeying. On the horizon she spotted a large brown wolf, colored as a brown bear. Strong and fierce looking. As she neared the wolf looked fasted, like they hadn’t eaten.

Her hunt would have to be on hold for awhile….

she continued on her way, not knowing there was someone watching her.

there was a feeling of eyes upon her, though. an awareness of something. zharille stopped to regard her surroundings and then, growing impatient because of her hunger, she resumed her stalking.

the scent of various small animals caught her attention—in particular a patch of grass which looked to have been dragged, maybe by hooves or maybe by a rodent hoping to use the mixture of moss and greenery in their hideaway.

she lowers her head to further inspect the scent there, and while it is fresh she cannot discern what it is exactly. something small most likely, which was not going to satisfy her. then again, any hunting would be good at this point.

Sorry I vanished, I fell into some things OOC :/ I’m back though now.

She had this feeling, that she should do something…. Suddenly, a large groundhog caught her eyes, she crouched… Bam! She had her teeth around it, ending the struggle.

She took only small pieces, enough for her and her feathered companion when she’d return home. A leg or two. Meaty indeed, putting it in a temporary spot and marking it with sticks.

She picked up the rest and trotted toward the stranger wolf, but not too far from her spot. She let out a cautious, beckoning bark as if to say, come here. “Hello? I have something for you, don’t run!” 

The woman looked hungry, yet she was still cautious as this was an unknown wolf near the pack borders.

no worries!

the sound of a scuffle drew zharille's attention, and then there was a bark, and she was urged to prowl closer. she was not afraid of anyone or anything, typically, and it was the same in this instance. the stranger was hardly a concern to her—but the smell of fresh blood and meat gave her focus.

the other wolf had an offering for her. that was how she saw this moment; one giving to the other, but in a manner as such to appease, as one might a god. zharille likened herself to that god; powerful and frightening, with the ability to circumvent opposing wills as she saw fit.

the stranger gave pieces. zharille rumbled a pleased sound in the back of her throat and moved to take what was there; she did not speak, as there was no need, and whether she snapped up the morsel from the ground or pulled it straight from the stranger's own teeth did not matter.

it was offered; if it hadn't been, she was equally likely to take it anyway.

The woman approached, much larger than Gyr originally thought. She must have heard the scuffle of hunting.

She made a series of noises, and then came to take what was left to her. Stepping back aside to allow her to do so. She was glad that the meat could be put to good use, since Gyr did not need a whole, fattening ground hog.

She did not, speak. Nor did she in return, instead offering a nod as if to say your welcome. She turned around, to go back and pick up her pieces she put aside to take home. Quitely leaving the area. This wolf wasn’t likely a threat to borders and left her as such, to her own business.