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Borlla didn't have to go far to find a plentiful population of rodents, and she moved into an easy crouch. The pale Leader loved hunting. It was probably the only thing she could say she was any good at. Her passion was obvious in her near-perfect stance, and the way she danced, almost floated, over the earth towards her quarry. Nostrils quietly flared, identifying the animal in question: a mouse. And a rather fat one at that. With a graceful leap, the woman arched over the earth and landed dead on, using her incisors to carefully break the spine of the rodent. One down, one to go. Moving away from the killspot, she dug a little hole to hide her catch in, carefully moving dirt over it until she could come back.
Moving on, she circled back around to the den, falling easily into a crouch again as another prey scent flitted into her nose. But she'd hardly taken a few steps forward when a horrible pain shot up from her paw to her shoulder. A terrible yelp pierced the air and she pulled her front right leg up. She tried to move her head around to see what could have caused it, and after a few blink licks, she could feel the large thorn stuck in her pad. Hissing her displeasure and pain, she rose frustrated to her paws, and began to make her way back to the den site. Hopefully someone could help her get this dreadful thing out. The mouse would just have to wait. <b style="color:#32527a">