She spent a long time patrolling, staying out in the neutral territories for as long as she dared until the sun started to sink in the sky. She wanted to make sure that there wasn’t overtly dangerous out here, a threat beyond the Dawnrunners and Sangi’lak wolves looming in the distance. She at least knew of those threats, and would be prepared when they came, but Shiloh was yet new to this land and wanted to know the lay of it as well as learn about its inhabitants—friend or foe.
Her travels brought her to the woodlands of the isthmus, where she stopped for a moment to stick her walking staff up in a tree and shift shape. As a petty girl, Shiloh hadn’t liked her four-legged form, thinking that it made her seem like an uncultured dog rather than the graceful luperci she was. She had since wizened up thanks, in part, to the necessity of food when she and Ascher were stuck out in the blizzard. Her pale coat had worked wonders when it came to hiding amongst the snow and catching prey, but the winds would topple over an upright wolf, and it was easier to sleep curled up with her dark nose tucked under a plush white tail.
She got lucky today, managing to grab a rabbit with minimal bloodshed. She trotted back to her staff’s hiding place and shifted again, picking up her catch in a hand and grasping her ornately-crafted weapon as she started to head back in the direction of Vinátta. The rabbit was warm and limp in her grasp, and she thought about eating it raw since she was out in the woods anyway—but home wasn’t too far away, and a nicely cooked rabbit was always nice.
Shiloh made half of the journey without anything eventful occurring, but suddenly the scent of another wolf made her stop and sniff. She could smell several other wolves mingled into the individual’s odor, maybe a pack scent—something that both thrilled and worried her. Another pack so close to Vinátta might be an ally or might be an enemy; and the feral edge to the odor was not unlike Sangi’lak. She didn’t want to be caught between a hammer and an anvil if she could help it.
The young woman was a warrior, however, and she wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to at least gauge this other wolf’s attitude. Holding the rabbit tight, her fingers pressed into its short brown fur, Shiloh made her way toward the scent then stopped when she saw a dark shape leaning back against a tree: a luperci, small with age or just with a small stature. She thought about calling to them, but she was coming plain into sight anyway, stark white against the trees; the scent of the kill only helped.
Word Count → 473
Longer than I meant to write; everything but last paragraph is skippable. xD
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