Otatso Wetlands And the dents on my car

She had travelled south just as she had planned, though a part of her wondered if she may be following Rala. The scarred woman shook the thought from her mind. Allowing herself to miss the snow-coated friend would only lead to disappointment.

What was ahead, she did not know - and yet the scent of wolves was heavy on the air. Cal worried of the packs ahead. Soon she would need to pinpoint their territories and steer clear.

Her stomach grumbled, neglected by the limping woman for some time. Her last meal had been stolen by a wolverine, and now she feared to hunt in unfamiliar territory.

Pausing, she searched for the scent of carrion. A carcass left behind; something she could borrow from.

The woman was certainly interesting to look at, though not attractive in any sense of the word. Persia hummed thoughtfully, exhaling through his nose. The remnants of his last kill sat abandoned only a few feet away from him. Perhaps it was the scent of his success which had drawn her here.

For now he only watched from a distance, still reclined, though his ears stood tall. He wasn't certain yet whether he would chase her off or not. Charity wasn't much in his nature — but neither was cruelty, not really. It all depended on his mood, which he hadn't puzzled out just yet. So he watched.

The smell of death hit her quickly, Calfuray turning to pursue it. Her interest was clear and immediate.

However, Cal was never a lucky woman. Far too close to the carcass for her liking sat a strange man with an energy that she found she was not so keen on engaging with.

Her head lowered as she stalked, inching closer to what was once the man's meal. Not once did her eye leave him. She spoke no words; in her mind he would either leave, or one of them would get a good bite.

He stood as the woman approached, stepping closer to the carcass as she did. The lazy confidence of his stride belied the hard look in his eyes. Persia met her gaze, unwavering, but made no move to defend his kill.

She was a bold one, wasn't she? Or maybe just stupid. Thin and wounded as she was, Persia couldn't imagine why she thought half a carcass would be worth a fight with a healthy wolf. He eyed her, trying to decide just by the look of her whether it was mettle or idiocy which guided her.

Hunger could drive a woman to do strange things.

Half-tail held as high as it could be, Calfuray moved to the carcass with all the confidence of a bull while her stare remained that of a vicious predator.

The stranger made no move, and Cal wasted no time ripping into what remained of the meal they now shared. She was hungry, desperate for something filling her stomach.

Momentarily she wondered if she should have asked Rala to feed her, but the one-eyed pariah knew all too well that she would not have been able to forgive herself had she taken advantage of the woman's charity.