It wasn’t hard to notice the rigid way she held herself, the disinterested look displayed so obviously on her face. Church can’t help but wonder what happened to this girl, barely older than her own children to make her so jaded so early in life. Some of her children were clearly quieter and more reserved than others, Embla and Jax, but they didn’t seem to share this girl’s jaded nature. Perhaps when all of this was done she could spend more time with her, give her a shoulder to lead on perhaps, but then again Church doubted she would accept the offer given her demeanor. She shook her fox-like head, putting her motherly concerns in the back of her mind. There was business to be done today and she could let nothing get in her way.

Still she nods her head at Cinder’s terse reply with a few waves of her dark-tipped tail, hoping still to have the girl warm up to them before this is over. Everything about the girl is stiff, even as Ragnarok moves behind her in a natural formation for travelling the narrow paths of Spirane she notices her wary glances with a glimpse over her slender shoulder. It’s still strange to her that someone within the pack would behave this way around other pack members but it wasn’t her concern. At least she behaves, her movements one who has a will to hunt and so their chances of success on her task are still high.

They move silently, a train of bodies with a single purpose toward their targets above. On that silent signal she branches off from them, relying on her body language and how in tune she is with her Moon to convey her purposes. Gladly they understand and she embraces the instinctual urges that cover her mind and heighten her senses. Everything seems to slow around her, her world shrinking to this one task and that one ram like the silence before the storm. And then she is bursting form her cover, a golden streak of light heading for her single target with startling intensity.

Expectedly he startles and with her encouragement runs with exuberance into the open jaws of her pack mates. Like a flash of gray and russet her Ragnarok is there, making this ultimately less of a fair fight but he was the pure muscle to her deadly grace. As she nips at its heels she sees the flash of his ice-blue eyes and sees the snap of his jaws close enough to cause the creature to stumble. Out of the way of the ram’s flying hooves her aquamarine eyes twitch to the dark form of the girl as she is flying beside him. She leaps with little care of the dangerous horns of the ram as they swing but her aim is true and her gaping jaws find their mark.

As the ram topples, unable to withstand the girls weight, Church sets upon its back quickly, weighing it down as it struggles weakly. Already it slows, losing its ability to fight back as quick as the blood that floods the grasses around them. The girl’s grip holds until it ceases movement, watching with sea-green eyes Church waits until she releases, the fresh blood running down her muzzle and chest. Casually she steps back off the carcass, watching the girl with an almost cautious air. Some did not feel… sociable after such acts. “It was a good hit, though you should mind the risk of your actions, hooves and horns are nothing to scoff at. Have your piece,” she says, nodding toward the warm body, “you have more than earned it.” There is a touch of caution to her words, dubious as to weather or not the girl would take kindly to them.

Quietly she steps toward Ragnarok, feeling the all familiar pull of gravity as she nears him. She pushes her head beneath his wide muzzle, eyes closing for just a moment. “Thank you for your help, love,” she whispers though Cinder may well hear. Finally she withdraws, standing beside her partner and waiting to see what the girl of black and white would do.