There was a brilliant rush of adrenaline and endorphins that surged in her body when she hunted, the most naturalistic high she had ever experienced. Pure power rushed through her body making every single pristine white hair on her body stand on end, her tail flagged proudly behind her, and her eyes were alive and shimmering with raw supremacy. It was one of the reasons she so often hunted, the larger the target the better, for never did she feel more alive and with purpose than when fresh, warm blood flowed down her throat. Zaphkiel is correct in his own right, she is a queen, perhaps not of any one place in particular but a queen of her the rights that are birthed in wolves from the dawn of time. The right of the predator to carry out the supreme law; she is judge and jury, oath writer and enforcer.

All of this was nothing that Astrid would take to heart however, titles and authority meant little to her; she knew and longed for the thrill of the hunt, nothing more. Standing there, her claws flexed into the tender hide of the deer and her pads splayed wide across its neck and back in claiming she listed to the blood rushing through her ears as he approached. His words almost stop her heart however, never having met someone who would bear to be around her rather off-putting nature and still manage to try and flatter her so, he was different she would give him that. She doesn’t respond however, she can’t give him the satisfaction of that. She does, however, flash fang at him a gentle reminder that she is not a lady as she has ever stated despite his unwillingness to accept that fact.

She veritably preens at his next comment, the arch of her neck a touch more exaggerated than the situation called for. As we have seen Astrid is a realist taking pride in the ability she possesses and never claiming more so, but under praise she flourishes never doubting her own abilities but enjoying when others take notice. His next comment causes her two-toned eyes to drift to the swollen belly of their prey, stilled now but the treasures within no less tempting. No doubt his mind followed her to the thoughts of newly formed babe inside, its flesh fatty and supple as its only job to this point as been to grow. Her blue and golden eyes turn back to him for but a moment, considering for the first time if she should be generous. Ultimately there are two sets of hearts and kidneys within their prize, the most treasured of all the entrails. It was a rare gift indeed.

She transitions over the warm body, sidling up alongside him by the belly of the deer, a low growl rumbling in her throat almost automatically at his closeness though she put herself there; a reminder, nothing more. Her wide head lowers, her dark nose skimming the belly of the deer while inhaling the intoxicating aroma. Her black lips curl back over her voraciously curved teeth and with little ceremony at all she tears into the soft flesh. The rush of blood and entrails is almost instantaneous, as if it had simply been waiting for them all this time and the smell of it all in the air sends her into a frenzy. She noses around voraciously until she finds the treasures, delicately extracting them and laying them at their feet. Next she extracts the womb, cutting at the amniotic sack until the still, small form of the fawn tears through and lays dead as it had been since cutting off its life support.

Despite her earlier thoughts she avoids the babe now, its size not quite enough to entice her as the entrails would be small she was sure. Instead she turns her attention back to the morsels at their feet, tearing first into the heart and then the liver until they are split in half, allowing her to savor the feeling of the powerful muscles sliding down her throat. She casts a sidelong look at her dark companion, a spark lingering there, “That half is for you”. Her words are thick, coated with the meat lust that the display before her brings on. Its instinctual, natural, everything Astrid will ever be. Her attention turns back to the meal, tearing through the gamey meat with ease until she is practically drunk off the sensation. There will be time for talking soon enough, especially knowing her companions penchant for flamboyant words.