Redhawk Caldera The Harlequin Lamp

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Niamh had gutted and devoured most of the creature's innards by the time she felt full enough to take a moment to pause and clean some of the blood off her face and her paws, pushing the kill aside at least temporarily while she did so. Her whiskers twitched when she finally scented another wolf over the smell of blood on her pelt, but she didn't respond immediately. She continued to clean some of the red stain off her forelimbs and ruff, and shook a couple bits of gristle and oily beaver fur our of her chest fur before she softly glanced toward the woods, not knowing exactly where her mate was hiding, but she had a general idea.

“I've eaten enough to be friendly,” She said reassuringly, her way of extending an invitation for her prowling mate to come and join her without being fended off with a growl and snapping teeth. She was well aware of how much of a demon she became when she ate, and how possessive she was about it. She would snap and lash out at absolutely anyone who got too close, and she hadn't seen fit to change her ways, given the fact she was ranked near the top of her pack. And she was well aware that Phox would go out of his way to avoid eating next to her at a pack kill- which was appreciated. The last thing they needed was to look like they weren't the power couple that sheknew they were.

She still intended to save the rest of her meal for later, and kept it protected by draping one of her long forelegs over it, but she was otherwise back to her usual calm now that she'd been fed.