Falls of the Hinterlands Hunting Fishes

Light played along the ground and the clouds played hide and seek with the suns rays it was slightly cooler today then it had been the past few days but the sky held a crisp blue color despite the old colours trying to mar it’s beauty.


A coal black female wolf was carousing around the new territory of the Saint of The Dying light, marking the trees with urine, this land was her land now, she owned it. Of course the rest of the pack had the right to be upon this land too, and that annoyed her, but she’d not let that show just yet.

She had never spent so long in one place before and she was beginning to go stir crazy. She needed something to do, something to kill, though hunger was not what drove her these days, her belly was still full from the deer she and the grandmaster had taken a bit a ago.

She moved along the streams edge urinating a scent marking pee every 50 paces of so when her white blue orbs caught the form of a wolf edging so carefully into the water. She halted quietly and watched the inexperienced femme, a frown formed on her dark face, was this whelp hunting? Any pack mack of hers needed to be stronger and more confident then this. SHe narrowed her eyes making sure that was exactly what the female was trying to do

Whrist drew a deep breath and sighed, then made her way toward the female. Each of her paw steps were light,  barely moving a leaf as her black pads kissed the earth, so her steps were deathly silent.

She walked up the the near edge of the bank coming up behind the female before speaking without announcing herself; her tone was both accusing and chiding at the same time, something akin a mother scolding a pup “Just what are you doing?”