Fleeing Firethorn Peak in the midst of winter was perhaps not the greatest of choices—she stuck out like a sore thumb, a dark stain against the white of snow, and if her pursuer had truly wanted to track her they could have done so easily. Snapdragon knew these things, and also that the hunt for food as a vagabond would often prove fruitless, but ultimately she knew there was no choice. For all her time spent as the bottom rung—her entire life!—and all she had put up with, a line had been crossed. And, due to her chronic silence, there was no justice to be found. It was sheer luck that the Alphas had called for a hunt as her attacker began to give chase—they would have been missed and questions would have been asked—but she still feared to look behind her. Still feared she would be taken in her sleep.
But she had to be far enough away now; safe enough. Truthfully, Snapdragon didn't know how long she had been running—it was all such a blur—nor where she was... but there was a different atmosphere here. It calmed her slightly, though her nerves remained on edge, enough that she decided to brave a small hunt for herself. It smelled of hare, here, and the tracks of their hopping gait did more to betray their presence. Hunger lent her strength and it wasn't long before the half-starved female held a prize in her grasp, sinking to lay upon the snow and rip it open with a savage growl. Warm, rich blood spilled down her throat, staining the white of the earth and black of her muzzle without discrimination.
<small>artwork by <a href="http://wyndbain.deviantart.com/art/Wolf-Maker-2-0-179413339">wolf maker</a></small></center>