11-12-2018, 09:49 AM
The animals have begun to sicken and die.
There is no more happy hunting in the hills. Only death, and the days’ old scent she tracks with a wet sniffing nose.
She tracks him all the way to the pampas, full of tall once-lush grass. It seems perfect for hunting smaller vermin such as mice and voles. Unbeknownst to her, she is smacking her lips together in satisfaction and anticipation. No meal was ever guaranteed but the sleek black wolf is no slouch when it comes to finding one..
Every so often, she stops and lays an ear flat against the ground to listen for signs of larger game. She does the same when sniffing the ground to make sure she hasn’t lost the scent of him - he is the starry beacon that guides her forth. Hopefully he hasn’t forgotten about her…
She’s spied him with his mate; knew it was only a matter of time until their pack increased in size. Knows too, that he is busy - on the cusp of war, troubled by plague, and maintaining his ruthless rule. All things she’s never taken much interest in, preferring her lone-wolf lopes through the wilderness.
Preferring her macabre hobby of mouthing their mother’s bones on the beach and holding conversations with her sun-bleached skull.
He’s easier to find in the brilliant swaths of grassland - tall and striking. She is not quite as tall as he is, but is just as striking in horse-form though that is a shape she wears less and less nowadays. The wolf was better. So she sniffed and snuffled her way towards him, recognizing a few other scents in the process but relegated them to states of unimportance. Only her brother mattered.
She barked once before the grass parted around her like butter, and she, the lean black knife. Her eyes laughed up at him as she play-growled and dove in to nip at his heels before throwing herself on the ground in unabashed exhaustion. “Nice place,” she mentioned casually, around a tongue that would not stay in her mouth.
@[Wolfbane] <3