Sacred Grove Table for One

The tawny wolf stalked forward through the trees tensely. Her paws met the ground in carefully planned steps. Her eyes honed in on the target. A young spike, likely from a nearby bachelor group, had found itself alone with a gaping shoulder wound. Torah observed from a distance inching forward every so often. Her calculated movements kept her downwind but in the snow, there was little to hide her auburn-hued pelt. The woman halted and stood stalk still, watching, thinking. She knew that even if injured she was not capable of taking the animal down alone. Perhaps if she tracked it for a few days the deer would collapse from his injury.

SHE WALKS. "SHE SPEAKS." SHE THINKS

The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit

"Are you ready for, ready for A perfect storm, perfect storm?"

Nineve smelt the deer, the blood. Her adventures and her hunger drawing her further north from the place she called home. Being born into the comings of a drought and then their little pack turning into just her two brothers, parents and blind cousin, Eve had quickly learned to never miss out on the opportunity to eat and drink. She had never hunted deer, never gone this far, but to the bold and daring girl, it was a risk far worth taking.

When she arrived close enough to see the animal, it is only then she takes note of the burnished colored wolf. Eve had met very little outside her family and although the woman was quite small (no more then the size of herself) a nervousness welled in her throat. One which she silently choked down. Eve hunkered down, her coat allowing her to take the roll of a dark rock or fallen log. Maybe they could pull this off together?