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The crisp air of the North burned in her lungs. It was enough at certain elevations to make her lightheaded and heavy, so Kaitriona with Apache Outlaw attempted to meander through the lower levels of mountains encountered. Mingled with the chilled atmosphere of Nova Scotia was the scent of young moose, perhaps migrating for the encroaching colder season and finding better vegetation to stock on for weight and warmth. A pang of hurt connected with her stomach and tongue, saliva instantly forming at the crease of her muzzle, her tongue licking away spittle. Kaitriona couldn't begin to count how many days and nights it been since she was worthy of a true prize of prey, and didn't want to think about it (thinking about it made her stomach upset, strangely). The insignificant, meaningless rodents of the world were but bony and skimpy snacks; not enough for Kaitriona to nourish key nutrients. The weight loss was evident, her torso gradually slim, and her hips not as full as when she was well taken care of.
Opting to track the young moose alone (for it would be an easier kill by herself than upon equine), Kaitriona left Outlaw to his grazing and idling to silently track after the scent. Her throwing knives were drawn, gripped in grasp as her nose led her to the source. There was another scent suddenly hitting her waft, and her nose quivered to pick up more of this particular smell. Male. Carnivore. Canine. Wolf. Apparently Kaitriona had not been the only, for a few meters away was a four-legger stalking the same moose her nose detected. Gradually gaining upon the young moose, Kaitriona didn't realize she was mimicking mirror movements of a Lupus in the camouflage of the scenery. Her sapphire gaze witnessed the flash of agouti fur, followed by the creep of four paws stalking.
Four-leggers, Lupus, or just plain wolf were rare occurrences in the wild. To see one untouched and uninfected by the virus was either a bad omen or a sheer sighting of luck. There was always a certain spot in Kaitriona's heart and mind that was mystified, disturbed, and fascinated all in one by a true wolf. I used to be a true wolf, once upon a time. Perhaps it was those confused, untouched memories of childhood and her innocent years that brought back a stir of emotional clouds within. Her sapphire eyes hardened as if they were ice cracking, narrowing her gaze toward the stalking wolf. She mused at the impressive nature the wolf was taking, stalking this moose all by himself without the aid of a pack or mate beside. Kaitriona stopped in her tracks suddenly, watching the scene unfold. She did not care to hunt after the young moose, but longed in curiosity to see the true wolf before her in action of his hunt. Fascinating. Kaitriona made no bashful moves to conceal herself or hide, for she was in plain view in the Northern Tides, and watched with fervent curiosity as the wolf stalked. It was as if she was almost an outsider, looking in.
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