Foxtail seems to have developed a habit of lurking near other wolves and grabbing the prey that they have worn out with the chase. A few days past she had snapped up a rabbit that had escaped Tianshi, and today she pounces gleefully upon a rabbit that has just raced – white eyed – past her resting place. She crunches happily on the brown and white creature, noticing that it is far more filled out than most of the lean things she had caught recently. Spring must be coming, thinks the russet wolf as she swallows the rabbit, and with it a plethora of easy meals.

Life is not easy for a lone wolf, but she has made it through the worst part of winter without starving to death. Her red winter coat, almost as bright as a fox’s, is full enough to hide the leanness of her body for now. Come spring, when she sheds out her thick undercoat and returns to her rusty black color, she’ll need to bulk up to avoid looking like death walking.

Swallowing the last few bites of rabbit, Foxtail stands up, boredly back tracking the scent of the rabbit. Perhaps there are more rabbits where it came from, she thinks. At one point the scent doubles as she pauses, sniffing around until she finds that there had been two rabbits, and they had split up. Raising her head, her golden eyes settle on a paler wolf in the distance, one that is clearly finishing off her meal’s companion. No second dinner for Foxtail, then.

Though the female wolf has been, for the most part, rather secluded, she woofs a greeting toward the stranger in the distance. She’s not sure what to expect from him, but he’s alone and so she assumes not part of a pack.