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The instincts of a hunter existed within every carnivore, every beast that lived and died by fang and claw. Only strong wills could survive. The weak deserved to perish. This was her religion—this brutal, simplistic thing that was life. Salvia was a holy woman of this world and knew its prophecies for what they were. She cast for omens in every leaf, looked to trails for signs, and oh there was something true and honest and (if she dared imagine) magical about life. A living thing would die so that she might take its strength. She believed this in a nearly cannibalistic fashion, and in some secret part of her heart, knew that consuming another would give her their power.
Her body was a work of this magic, well muscled and toned, heavy but not as large as her father or brother. She had the long legs of a wolf and used them as if she too was a cat. Salvia’s body was adjusted to make up for such a pace, and she too dropped low and carefully into the predator’s stalk.
The girl moved first. Salvia bristled and rushed forward. Draugr had managed to grab it by the leg. A blur of black and reddish-brown leapt from nearby, amber eyes gleaming, and Salvia spotted her lynx make one graceful leap onto the young buck’s back. Without a growth of antlers to protect him, the big cat was free to dig terribly hooked claws into its back. The deer bleated loudly and then Salvia lunged for the throat.
She closed her jaws around the loose skin and her own momentum ripped it free. It was not deep enough to be fatal, but blood began to flow and splatter them as the reindeer bucked and wheeled in desperation. Salvia sprung away from one razor sharp hoof. Abendrot was hissing and spitting from the beast’s back, aiding to the confusion. The buck arched its neck to try and fight off this terrifying specter and Salvia saw her opening.
With another leap she found the throat, and this time, clamped down hard. Her teeth pierced through the thick fur and grappled the windpipe. It would be a slow death, as evident by the animal’s refusal to stop fighting. He struggled even as Salvia twisted her body and tugged him, inch by inch, towards the ground.
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