Dawn. It is the time when Flare knew weakness showed itself. This was one of the more optimal times to hunt for many reasons. She knew of the animals of the night growing weary. She also knew of the groggy creatures that have just awaken from their nightly slumber. But Flare, she had her violent amber eyes plastered open. There was one thing that always prevented her from having too long of a sleep. This, was the feeling of hunger that ravaged her belly. A pain that could not be ignored or fought against. She could only feed to make the pain leave...and she needed to feed more than herself.

There was an instinct that lingered so deep in the white, fire-touched female. Once taught by an older wolf how to live and survive, she never knew of the small creatures that burst from her very form. She did not understand them, did not comprehend them as many others did. All she knew was her instinct to protect them...for now. There were times when Flare felt a flame of irritation at the male child, how he would sometimes show a hint of weakness that made her blood boil. Yet most of him was strong, and for now, he was permitted to live. It is these two small ones that needed food. She cannot stand their whines and screams, cannot handle the noise just as she cannot handle her own clawing stomach. The dark male provides to some extent, but he always consumes first. There is not always enough for their growing band, and that is why this dawn, Flare hunts for the weak.

She can be a patient one when she needs to be, but it always wears thin the more her stomach rumbles and rages. The lithe girl followed a strong drive to hunt where the edge of the woods hits fields. It is a place where she could easily hide...and approach anything entering or exiting the woods. On this early dawn, she lay covered in dirt. Her form is already one that looks dirty naturally, her brilliant white streaked with flashes of russet red, charcoal black, and silver grey. Her top side was largely covered with a mix of these colors, and with her keeping dirt upon her, it was hard to see any of her white at all. She is buried in the cover of brush, her own form temporarily obscured as her terrifying red eyes stare off into the field.

She is there for a long while. She does not know how much times passes, nor does she particularly care. She simply waits in leaves, until she sees something in the distance. Instantly, her eyes stare in their direction. There is one larger wolf, and she stares at him in the comfort of his hiding place in the dirt. He is not approaching directly at her, more to her left. Not even in sniffing range. She feels her nares flare in irritation, only to see something much more...tempting by his side. It is smaller. Much smaller. Yet, she is so far away, she cannot properly asset if this small one is strong. Naturally, most small ones are weak, easily meals for the hunger beast.

Flare waits with great stillness and patience until they reach rather close to the treeline. It is then that she moves, leaving her hiding spot and making her way into the grassy field. She does not approach aggressively. She has learned from various experiences that a known approach is best when placid. Her limbs are long, and her whole form is thin naturally from her bloodline. She moves directly towards them, her black-lined eyes staring directly at the two with great interest. As she gets closer, she sees more of the young one. A young one that is only food in her eyes, only a meal to be eaten in her silence. Flare does not raise a hackle nor does she expose her fangs. She only makes a steady approach, ears perked and eyes fixated on the young girl. A small bit of excitement shows though, with the slightest wag of her tail. She will be alert and aware though of their reaction to her, which could drastically change the outcome of this...unknown encounter.