The leaves crunched beneath the barest weight of the ice queen. She shone, her coat a silver-white, so bright at times that it hurt your eyes. Contrasted by the dull sienna that laced her legs, and the grey that masked her face. The girl spoke to no one, not even her siblings, mainly because they pissed her off until the point that she wanted to rip their throats out. Not that she could even reach their throats. Screw drawing the short straw of the family. Literally.

Agile and light, her steps were carefully placed as she crossed over the border of an unknown land, drawn in by the sensation that she would be more than welcome here, the darkness lured her in. the silver-white femme moved easily through the dark trees. There were a few fallen, scattered logs in the area she was entering from, and she easily crouched, going underneath the hull of the large log, her belly skimming over the top of the ground. She shook, her long silky coat shaking so that the dirt would fling off of her. She was a bit vain, she supposed, prim and proper when it came to dirt, but blood, blood was a badge of honor she would wear whenever she found her victim.

She spotted them, the white leader, the three young ones and the other, by the scent that floated her way, distinctly male. The grouping was strange. But the sound the white leader had released showed she had recently become a victor, defeating the old alphaess and taking reign of the land. And that was commendable. The scent of blood was thick in the air, the white queen was obviously injured from the fight, but that didn’t stop Renai’s stomach from twisting and turning, the hunger pain were strong for another’s blood, but she held herself back.

The sickness that had run rampage through the valley had drained her of a lot of her strength lately, but when it faded, she began to find herself stronger than ever. Maybe going to the brink of death was useful, eh?

The white femme moved, the silver hues catching light here and there as she moved, the red on her legs making a statement, while the grey on her face helped cover any expression that may have crossed her face. She moved easily, coming up to them without saying a word, she just watched, her breathing even and almost unnoticeable. Her scars, on the other hand marred her perfected coat, the fur around her neck was missing in patches due to the overlay of bite wounds. And laced in with the sienna marks on her legs were more scars. Yet, she still thought of herself as a perfect specimen, despite the fact that she was the size of a yearling pup. The greyed face would hide any nuance in expression, should her control slip and let any show.