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Time had crawled since the first day he had met the white shewolf. In that day, two meals had escaped him – escaped them – and he had become beyond frustrated. Countless times he had considered turning on her, taking her life that was so close to him and so easy to snatch. But just as some power beyond him kept him from leaving this god forsaken land, something made him refrain from snapping her pretty white neck and feasting upon her. Instead, he stalked her. When they were not together, he was not far behind her. He cared not if she knew of his presence, but he hungered for her in more ways than one. The result of that meant he would not let another so much as touch her powdered form. Though the snowy atmosphere provided a perfect camouflage for her pristine bodice, he never lost sight of her.
She was moving through a wooded area, her bodice weaving entrancingly through the trees. Part of him wanted to pounce on her then and there. He refrained. It was only the sound of frozen reeds rustling at someone’s movement that caused his ear to flick to the side, towards the river that was not so far away from them. Though he had gone back and feasted upon the deer he had killed – a wolf so large had to sustain themselves on something – Reaver still hungered for something more. And there was only one type of flesh that would sate his desires. Green eyes lifted from her swaying hips for the first time in an hour, flashing towards the river, and he was rewarded. There was no quandary to be had, the decision was instantaneously made. A rumbling growl was emitted to alert the white fem, but he wasted no time looking back to see if she would follow him. With or without her, he would dine upon lupine flesh today.
Stalking towards the river, his immense body was impossible to conceal. Though his legs melded seamlessly with the snow, his pitch and crimson markings made him stand out all too obviously. But he did not bother to try to conceal himself. Instead, he lengthened his stride to an immense jog, sweeping across the snow like some tank come to boulder over the river. Her hindquarters face him as he draws nearer, and he approaches directly from behind in an attempt to remain in her blind spot. When he is within ten feet of her, he rushes, and the glaring target her tail creates is all too tempting.
He lunges forward, all but silent in his pursuit – his movement was the only thing that may have given him away. Jaws gaping, he comes up behind her and makes to grab onto her tail and forcefully snap his head to the side. If successful she would be thrown off balance and that combined with the sudden brute force of his form colliding with hers would send her sprawling in one direction or another. Always he is aware of his periphery, keen to know if the white shewolf would assist in the kill and enjoy the spoils afterward. If not, he didn’t mind in the least – more for him.
REAVER