Late afternoon. Sunny.
24*F, 11*C
The soft light of the late day swept down to cascade over dozens of coppery hued rocks, of many different shapes and sizes. Well traveled cream paws were placed with care over the pebble lined bank, as the now distinctly pregnant Notch Alpha set out on yet another search for food. The gradual swell of her sides and tummy reminded her constantly, that it was not just herself she was feeding anymore. The new lives inside her demanded nourishment, resulting in a drastic spike in her appetite. Also, now that she was responsible for overseeing the well being of the pack, a certain weight of responsibility settled on her shoulders. She needed to make sure the subordinates of the Notch were well fed too. Winter had been hard on them all, with the shortage of prey. A possible explanation for their still somewhat low numbers, but fewer mouths to feed in such unfavorable conditions was a positive. On another high note, Jynx was pleased to see that much of the local prey was slowly starting to filter in back to her neck of the woods.
Outside the immediate boundary of the pack lands, but still easily reachable if needed, Jynx was on the trail of an enticing opportunity. Fresh tracks, clearly imprinted in the mud, had caught her eye. The narrow, hooved shape and earthy scent could mean only one thing. Mule deer. Upon closer inspection of it's scent, her hunters instinct sharpened even further. Not only was this animal alone, but it was also pregnant. Possibly close to giving birth. If that was the case, then the doe was likely seeking shelter. Which meant it would be vulnerable, and a double meal for the predatory mother to be. Ignoring the gentle splash and lap of water from the creek, Jynx methodically moved along with it, creeping upstream. Her yellow eyes were fixed ahead, far off into the low lying branches of bushes, or past the trunks of trees. Looking for the muted brown coat she wished to see, or the slightest movement. Her eyes were not on the ground, where they should be. A glimmering, slender dark body slipped out from under two shaded rocks, just feet from her paws. The garter snake, who was minding it's own business and simply on it's way to the creek to attempt a crossing, was directly in her path. One step later, and a front paw landed firmly on a wriggling, dry body. Both animals startled, the snake coiled around to latch it's mouth around her outer toe, to get the wolf to remove her crushing paw from it's body. She, feeling a firm pinch, flinched back and peered down with a brief curl of her lips. Rather than releasing her unwilling captive immediately, she peered close to inspect the reptile. If it were venomous, she would rather know, and then seek treatment. A snake was a snake, and no matter the species, to be regarded with caution.