Black paws pounded the earth, racing over the land, weaving between trees. The blur of motion was white and black. There was a splash of red in there, but it was so minor that it may have been a flower in the background. Suddenly there was a leap, a crash, a snap. Tumbling to a halt was the white and black form of a female loner that had been sniffing out Nova Scotia for the past month. Next to her was the brown mound of a rabbit, but its state would best not be mentioned. With a huff, Layla rolled onto her feet and nuzzled the limp form with her large secui nose. Now satisfied, she rose up and sat on her hindquarters, panting softly.

Layla looked to the east and drew in a deep breath. She knew Anathema boundaries were this way when she was pursuing her prey. She had kept on because out here in the wilderness, it was often eat or die and it was no matter what the risk was. The female hoped she hadn't, however, and seems she didn't after all, according to her nose. She was close though, too close for a comfortable meal with the fresh kill. It could look bad. Instead, Layla dug a hole quickly, dropped in the rabbit, and covered it quickly with dirt. She silently wished she knew how to hunt better.

Shaking her pelt, Layla shifted to her bipedal form. It was by far her favorite form to use. It just came natural to her. It was truly amazing how easy thumbs made everything. Relaxing into her optime body, she ran her hands through her ink black hair. She had brushed it so often that her fingers didn’t snag in the waves and curls. She pulled the tiny leather bag from her neck and took out a piece of rope and red cloth, letting the pouch to fall on top of the buried rabbit.

The female put the tiny loincloth on around her hips. It didn't conceal much or lend any modesty, but she was once told it gave her a small taint of mystery. Layla barely walked twenty feet when she scented a wolf. She was nearly right on the border, so it would make sense that whoever it was belonged to the pack Anathema. Stopping, she held stock still and faced the source of the scent. "Hello?" she called. "I am a loner and peace follows me where I go." Hopefully whoever it was would get too excited and attack her.

Layla's ears were pinned straight forward and her eyes strained. She was doing anything to notice a sign of the other wolf. There was nothing, no one and no sign. A voice with bold words came from behind her and she twisted around to see its source with hackles raised. It was a male dressed in clothing as she had never seen before. He carried two small dead birds and though his posture was aggressive, it seemed empty. This was no wolf before her. She might have been over confident, but she knew this male was no real threat.

Layla's body visibly relaxed. It was then that the female had notice her fur had bristled along her shoulders and down her back. She smoothed her fur with her hands and tidied her appearance quickly. He was warning her that her kill had better not been Anathema's. She looked up at him as he eyed her recent kill's hiding place. He had an accent to his voice she hadn't heard another wolf speak before. It really was quite lovely.

"Actually this is near Anathema territory, it's five feet behind me," Layla said sarcastically. Sarcasm was her best defense technique against assertive actions. "I apologize, I'm just a little ruffled from being startled." Layla added in a remorseful voice. This guy was probably just trying to be a good pack member. Layla looked over her shoulder. She still scented a wolf, but he might be a long way off. He or she was upwind, there was no real way to know for sure.

Looking back to the white male, she tried to explain, "No I chased it here from the edge of the Dampwoods. I'm not exactly the best hunter in Canada." Layla shrugged her shoulders and offered a small smile. "I hope you believe me, because it's the truth. Really, I don't want to get off on the wrong foot. I'm quite friendly." Layla blinked, looking down at her mound briefly. Raising her head, she slowly walked back to it and offered her hand. There was a chance he knew what a handshake was. "I'm Layla, by the by, just another loner. Who might you be, foreigner?" she introduced herself.