Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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**your soul is mine**
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It gnaws at her, this driving need to follow that disgustingly pleasant aroma of death, to sate the hunger growing to claw at her gut. She does not come seeking the unfortunate beast in the water, no, today her prize will be had. The young vixen moves with a stealth and grace that only assassins and dancers could hope to posses, her strides eating away at the ground as that red haze falls over her vision. Wolf, she smells it, her startlingly sharp green eyes pinpoint the direction, gazing intently over the field. Her flag waves along behind her, standing proudly over her haunches as she prances her way toward the throng of succulent wolven flesh. Today she hardly cares if there are more than one, should she attack within the group, there will be panic. Some would assume she had food aggression, while others may catch on to her direction. She cares not, only that she will be fed this day.

It is not the carrion she has been lured by, though it has its own charms, instead the mass of wolf cologne has brought her predatory curiosity to the forefront of her turbulent mind. This time, she has managed to give her companion the slip, if only for a little while, and she can fully divulge in a true bout of cruelty. She wants the screams they will give, to take the life of the one familiar face she sees plainly before. The way they move about makes the slavering female halt, to observe what they are doing, wondering just how long it will take them to realize she will profit most from their unfortunate lack of tools. Should they touch the rancid beast rotting in the river, manage to pull it from the tide, they may still end up sick. Her particular type of prey making her very well aware of the taint the carcass holds. Instead of moving in for a kill, Jaidah waits, watching, scanning the crowd for any weakness. Her blatant lack of interest and the hunger in her intense gaze make it very clear she is not here for the deer. But, in a crowd so large, how will she choose who to eat?

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