Her liaison with the delirious Don Juan seemed to have done the trick, her body shifting back into its normal equilibrium; Free of the haunting itch, clouding her mind. Now she was free to pursue the true reason for her crossing the mountain in the first place; And not a moment too soon! She really should be on her way back already, and yet here she was, still stalking the outskirts of the Willows’ hunting grounds, trying and failing to come up with a better strategy. By now she had a pretty good idea of their numbers and most regular routines, but none of it gave her a way in. She was a smart enough girl, but the task she had been set was not an easy one. And it was certain that simply walking up to a pack border and asking questions about their members wasn’t gonna get her the answers she needed.
She was running out of time though, and more and more of it seemed to be spend hunting. Today too, her stomach had steered her thoughts away from scheming and towards the ever pressing issue of food. So with an annoyed grunt, she’d gone south, to the open lands beyond the Willows, tired of chasing hares and martens through the woods. They hardly seemed to satisfy her hunger for more than a minute anyway, but she would be hard pressed to take down anything bigger on her own. She would have much preferred to take up her old talent of scavenging, but this time of year, the competition was fiercer than ever, and her stomach could not bear to wait.
So she was left to do all the hard work herself, but at least it payed off, and she managed to land herself a young Marmot. Tough and scraggly, as everything this time of year, but at least it was bigger than a squirrel, and she wasted little time in chowing down on her catch, eager to sate this strange, new hunger and get back to her real task.
Word count: 344
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