Haunted Wood now it's three in the morning

valour, black hat—only @Vanity remains. she howls for the woman in the early hours of the morning, as the barest hint of light just begins to glow on the horizon. most of the pack are nocturnal, it seems, but if she isn't; dawn seems as good a time as any. 

she isn't especially fond of the woman. she's slippery, arrogant. but she knows better than to force her authority. no, that would open up a whole slew of possibilities in how the woman might react, very few of them appealing in any way. 

as she settles on the small ridge she's picked, she glances only once more at the shadows far at the edge of her vision. it takes her a while, but finally, she spots a flicker of movement again. satisfied, she turns her attention back to the conversation at hand, waiting for the woman to appear.

A call, resonating through the waking woods.
Some were waking, some were starting to slumber - she was waking.
Vanity rolled over, grumbling at being awoken so early. It wasn't even light!
This better not be frequent.

She got up, trudging to locate Hela. Swiftly, of course, despite her trudging.
Of course, she was perched on a ridge, being all regal. Maybe this would be grounds to decapitate the little shit. Not the place but the reasoning.
The masked woman looked at Hela, disapproval marking her features.
She wouldn't say anything yet in case she decided to get snarky; which would surely end in a fight because Vanity was not a morning person.

irritation is writ across the woman's face; the girl longs to incite a fight there and now. but she was better than her anger; so many had emphasized the control of it as one of the most important qualities a warrior should have. her situation was precarious; she would bide her time, continuing to try her hand at diplomacy before resorting to violence. 

"you are the packs best hunter," the warlord states simply, rising then and motioning toward the reason she'd chosen this ridge. it's the best vantage point at the moment; at least before they move out of view entirely. "there are two, maybe three, just beyond that treeline. deer." pausing, she turns back towards the woman. "I want you to lead a hunt." proposition lain out, she waits for some response; it seems a clean-cut enough proposal. it's the first large prey they'd seen in weeks, months; they are unlikely to stick around. if they want to eat well, they need to act fast.

Beyond the treeline?
Vanity's jaw hardened.
"I can if your call hasn't spooked them too far."
They were racing against time. She would've gathered others if Hela had called for a hunt, not a meeting with her - alone.

Vanity licked her lips, thinking. If they were running, it's likely there were here for shelter and easy food. Of course, Vanity could see the bark stripped from trees close by. She looked up through the skeletal fingers of trees, watching the snow falling abysmally. 
Time.
"We wait. They'll be here is we wait a bit longer. They don't want to be in this weather."
If the call had scared them from the treeline, they'd return once they see they were not being hunted. Especially if the weather got worse.

the woman's jaw harden, and she issues a petty warning. hela longs to do the same, but her expression remains neutral. "they'd be long gone by now if it took only a howl to scare them off." she answers. they're far enough away to spook, anyways; barely on the fringes of her vision. it's a jab at her, then, for now she will bear it. 

she nods her head, accepting the woman's analysis. "gather the rest when you see an opportunity. I'll spread the word." she won't be as outright with the woman as she'd been with Valour; there was no friendship to be recovered with her, or had in the first place. there are other options to consider, should the female continue to be a possible threat—but the promise of a meal for the pack is much more pressing in the moment.

"I will do so."
She had to plan and track. Ensure the situation was optimal. Or at least decent for them to all hunt.
She tilted her head at the young leader. She had so much to learn and had such a gobby mouth.
Oh how she could snap the twerp in half.
How Venny didn't do it was beyond her. Why didn't he just use his head,...

An image conjured in her mind, of Venny going to headbutt Hela. He'd done it to Vanity despite the difference. Him charging her, Hela driving for the neck.
Then it would only be a matter of holding on.

she sees no reason to hang around the woman any longer; it is clear what she thinks of her. whatever the woman's feelings, it is she who had claimed her position, she who had challenged Vengeance and won, even while she had sat back and done nothing but offer snippy warnings and fickle words. the warlord dips her muzzle, turning to move back the way she'd come, leaving Vanity to do what she would.