She was unaware of what had been happening. She had spent a good deal of the day exerting energy hunting, and had dozed off into a surprisingly deep sleep in the den. Perhaps age was starting to tease at her and more rest was required. Perhaps she was fighting off a small cold. She was not sure, only that she was fatigued from the hunt. When she awakened though, her red orbs flicker open to an empty den and immediately her heart begins to ache. Once out of the den, she did not know what was happening as night fell upon the plains. She only knew she was content with a full belly and decent rest.
She had a half a mind to wander and find those that came from her flesh. A yawn crawling from her white maw in the dark night touched with storm. She did not particularly want to leave the mouth of the den in such weather. It was not that she was concerned for the look of her pelt, but fall was here, and with it came the cold. She did not wish to feel the extra sting of coolness from wet fur that she was all too familiar with unless she had to. Her ears were picked though, and her mind was sharp an alert for anything that seemed off in her immediate vicinity.
Her red orbs watch the lighting dancing in the sky. She knows not what it is, does not put word to what is simply existence and nature to her. Life with a strange series of events, and one that repeats itself in different ways. The light in the distance kept her attention until the sound of the dark woman's howl played among the thunder of the clouds. Her head tilts slightly as she listens. It was a howl that led her to believe all was not initially well, but that the dark woman was now confident. It was an odd thing, but she was drawn in.
She completely leaves the den and begins to tread through the plains to the source of the howl. It is dark, and it is wet, but she now had reason to tread through the grass. Her pace quickened as she saw the dark woman, the cool wind bringing forth a most displeasing scent of blood. Her pace quickens again with a hardened determination upon her visage, only giving an intense look with the black surrounding her fiery eyes. She is displeased. She does not appreciate the smell of blood upon her, but it is blood mixed with another. She finds her ears pricking forward aggressively, although not at the dark woman herself, but instead with her eyes fixating beyond the dark woman for any threats. She initially marches past the dark woman, her side almost brushing against her but not quite. Her tail was high and her black and red hackles were raised. Her form was intending to appear larger and alert, to warn whoever it was that went fang to fang with the dark woman that Flare was now here to prevent further issue.
She only goes a few paces past the dark woman, standing for a moment in her dominant stance towards a stranger that may or may not be there. After she was satisfied that no one was there to threaten her, she turns her lithe form, hackles lowering with her tail. Her nose lowers to the dark woman's leg and she sniffs without touching. She walks back up to the scruff, almost touching her wounds but the closest she got with the blow of air from her nares. She pulls back, sneezing in displeasure as her tongue attempts to wipe away the scent of the others from her nose. She circles around to the face, looking to lick the smaller wound upon the face if allowed, before awaiting direction from the dark woman. The scent of the other was driving Flare mad, and she wished to erase any trace of an intruder's scent.