(Untitled)

[lissla_lissar]

The air is crisp, and clear, and cold. Eyes sharp enough to see at all will see white steam from breathing mouths. Above, the Moon holds court surrounded by the End of the Universe in its dying glories. Scotland's sky does not dwell here, only the Moon and the death of stars

Comments

[captainryan]

The black wolf is irritated tonight. The hunting has not gone well and two rabbits have escaped already. It's getting hungry.

The sound of crunching snow under running feet immediately grabs its attention and it moves toward what may be possible prey, silencing its movement as well as it can.

[milkbonesoldier]

The grey werewolf's been staying on the other's trail tonight, but otherwise keeping his distance. He's not looking for a fight; if anything, he's looking to keep one from happening. He'd hunt deeper into the woods if he could, no matter how weird the smells or not-right the beasts, but-

The sound carries. Grey ears perk forward. This could be promising, or it could be trouble. Depends what the wind says.

[lissla_lissar]

The wind says human, and dog. The woman runs in silence, avoiding branches that could crack with a nearly uncanny ease (not uncanny, a gift)and there is no labor to her breath.

Beside her Ash's sides rumble with hint of a growl, hint of a whine. She does not like the sound of the night.

[captainryan]

The scents tickle his nose and there's a wolfish grin on the muzzle as he begins to move towards the source.

Somewhere a voice is screaming no but it's all too easily lost amidst the swirl of scent and sound and above all hunger.