((Wasn't sure if I should have marked this private or joining to I went with private with invites to WM wolves. @Craw specifically))
The white furred wolf trudged carefully back up the semi familiar path now, a dead pheasant clamped firmly between her jaws as she climbed the hillside, to the same spot where she had met @Lorcan and @Craw the first time, this was the last of her days and the last trial she had to face. The bird had proven to be the most difficult to catch of all the gifts she to offer. Her mind drifted back to five days ago, stalking hare through the forests south of the Lowlands. The second day had proved to be a little more difficult, she had been faced with a clever Martin, a creature that Saradathia had never faced before, though it quickly proved to be a challenge that she had overcome with surprise, what she hadn't chosen to admit, nor did she ever plan to had been the fact that they had stumbled across each other and only her instinctive response breed out of the severe shortage of prey in the far north allowed her to react quick enough to kill the prey before it had gotten away.
The third day had proved to be the easiest, she had returned to the lake where she had first met Lorcan and along the way, in a shallow pool, laid some Burbot, fish, something the Yearling knew nothing about, except that they were food. After flailing around in the shallow pool, a few new cuts along her muzzle proved fruitful along with the knowledge that she absolutely hated how fish tasted. Day four had been a bit of a gamble. Saradathia had wanted to show that she could do more than just hunt, to show that she had a good amount of endurance and ability to run, she had dropped off a fairly twisted and dried branch from the Ghastly Woods along with another hare in case the first plan failed.
Now, here she stood, on the threshold of what would either be another disappointment, or her new life. Trying to figure out what sort of gifts, as the term was broad, that Craw expected, she had wanted a variety, and her heart had raced most days, coming up with now, in retrospect ridiculous ideas that never would have worked and luck had played a big role in her abilities, though it left only one thing to do. Dropping the pheasant carefully, Saradathia raised her scarred muzzle toward the sky and let out a loud howl.