Altar of Twilight Silence so Sweet

The Beta departed from Moonspear for a brief sojourn away to inspect the surrounding territory. She was curious whether or not those from Redhawk would seek her out should they go to find the wolf she detested the most; the wolf that Hydra herself wanted to see dead. She did not mind going to him swiftly; that would be what they expected of her, would it not? And she could not do that. Let them grow content and lazy with the feeling. The day he forgot to look behind his shoulder would be the day she found him—

or if he came too close. This, too, she sought to know as her nose grazed over dusty stone... but it seemed to not be so, fortunately for his mortality. She paused as she observed a large mass in the distance, and her head lifted while her ears pricked as she looked on to observe that this was a man. They moved, and her eyes followed, her own body language a healthy mixture of guarded and confident. She did not know laziness, and worked tirelessly to maintain her mastery. Her nose drank at the wind, hoping that a telltale breeze would advise her of who, if anyone, he ran with. It would be simple enough to push a Blackfeather wolf to their death should they not provide her with the information she wanted, and her own approach—her trajectory had been the same as his—was that of a woman who knew fear as an ally, not an enemy. Yet she was not so foolish as to meet him outright; she gave him ample space, not thinking to crowd him.