Winter had been rather unpleasant; a dud to be quite honest. More so in the fact that she had very little goings on within that period of time. It didn't sit right with the deranged girl and with the new spring she would be sure to get back into her ritual.

Ah, a ritual. It felt right just to think the word and it had been such a long while since she had last partaken in an offering. Her stomach grumbles and her ears pin in frustration. "Oh shut it. We're going to find something.." She growls in a retort as she continues to stalk through the shadowed woodland. It is a place that provides some form of comfort as she is able to lurk in the shade that the thick trees throw onto the earth. A safe place to hunt and to sacrifice.

The visions had been plaguing her mind more often than not as of late and slowly she was beginning to piece things together. Not to mention the strangely familiar scent that has been detected within the confines of the forest that she now slithers about. His name was on the tip of her tongue and his relation to her was close, a cousin perhaps? If she didn't get this issue figured out on her own then she would surely squeeze some information from him when she were to find him. For now she will make do with she already understands - and what she understands is her need to slay.

Mottled auditories swivel and perk upon the forthcoming sounds of labor and the scent of bodily fluids upon the air. Her flesh shivers in delight as viper-esque eyes focus on the direction in which her nose tells her the unfortunate victim and her children lay. The mother's timing could have never been more perfect as it was that Lacuna needed the blood of a newborn to begin her year of bloody sacrament. She slinks forward without sound, the art of stalking perfected by her desire for supremacy, the shrill cries of the whelps only drawing her closer with each moment.

The mother should be at her most vulnerable and without the scent of another near the den-site it is assured that Lacuna will be gifted with the spoils of her efforts. This does not go to say that she underestimates the female, for even the dark-souled femme knows what enraged mothers are capable of. But she is not swayed by what supposed threat the other may pose. She slithers in swiftly from the right and dives her slender jaws as far into the den as she can to snatch the wriggling body of one pup.

Black claws tear at the den entrance as her legs are splayed to press her jowls as far into the tunnel as possible, snapping viciously at anything that she can grapple if she were to be so unfortunate to miss the child.