She had finally left the land of her beginnings; the squabbling pack that couldn't tell a rabbit from a bird because their hunger was so great. As was their stubbornness. How many times would she have to snarl at them that they should move on to a more fertile land before they realized the truth? In time they would die out if they stuck in that dying world. The land was nothing if not harsh. Unforgiving. About like Aithne's soul. She remembered only a year past in the frenzy of winter mating when the son of the alpha had decided she was fertile. As if her youthful figure could manage both her own growth spurts and that of children. He was a clever one, she had to give him that, for he had waited until she was unawares before he had her pinned. It was perhaps the most painful of memories in her experience but it also led to the most delicious one. There was nothing like the easing ache of revenge. The snap of his windpipe beneath the power of her broad jaws or the blood that welled up to coat her tongue and drip, drop, drip, drip out of her mouth as she shook him and hovered over his corpse.

They knew then that Aithne was not a gentle soul like the female that had birthed her. The same mother who had wasted away from the harsh winters and dead summers. What a weak female, Aithne thought when she remembered those times as a pup, having to sneak into the horded kills while her mother's bony figure was shuffled to the side. Having to feed her own growing body while the one who was supposed to care for her walked the world between worlds. It was a damned shame.

Shaking away those memories with a twist of her shoulders the vixen stalks through Moladion with her ears pricked and deep emerald eyes attentive. This was a new world unseen to her. Lush. That is the word she was looking for. So much life abounded her that the stench of so much life left a bitter taste in the back of her throat. There was so much here and yet they had insisted on staying? Of course they wouldn't have come with her anyways. The alpha was furious at the death of his son; he did not care what the male had done to her. What did she matter anyways, mutt that she was? But she mattered. She'd make sure she always mattered.

The sound of a splash catches her attention, dominating the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves, and Aithne casted her direction towards the sound. A river appeared to break up the land, glittering beneath the heavy heat of sunshine, and another sparkling figure drew her eyes. He was a hidden flame beneath an open sun; beneath the black and brown of his fur were reds and lighter colors. The way he sat seemed.. smug. It immediately set her teeth on edge and her ears fell to half mast. There really was no way around his eyesight without turning back around but Aithne would not do such; she was here to stay. No matter what she had to take down to do it.

She ambles out into the sunshine, her own colors glistening; she is a gleaming black with a creamy white spot in the middle of her chest and covering half of her front left paw. From the backs of her ears a deep umber red runs down either side of her neck and spine and tapers off at her thick hips. Muscles abound on her figure - she is no dainty lady. "Where am I?" The question comes out stern. No-nonsense. Although she already suspects this male lounging in the sun above her will offer some smart ass retort.