Restlessness had started to creep into the bones of the woman. She felt at home in the mists of the moors, the fog enveloping her in a comforting blanket. In her life she had lived in the mountains, the rocks forcing her to stand out in the world, whereas here she could hide in the shadows. But the shadows had started to press on her mind, and think too hard about what was becoming of her. It turned out, when she was left alone with nothing to do her mind became too active. Through the winter she had fought the thoughts, trying desperately to shove them aside. But the faces of a few would not leave her mind. It drove her snarling from the mists and into the common lands.

Paws carried her through the caves of the Grotto. Her dark body making her a subtle shadow, only her silver white hind legs and tail giving a sign of her presence to any who saw her from the back. She prowled the caves, sniffing here and there to try to distract herself. Growing bored she began to pace through the caves, learning her way through the maze. If the blanket of the mists had become suffocating, the dark of the grotto was comforting instead. Nearly mindless, she followed a random scent and stalked it.

As she followed her nose to the end of the trail she picked up the scent of meat. A slow smile crept onto her dark lips. Perhaps she could come across something fun this day. Looking into the depths of the cave, her slate blue eyes landed on a wolf eating a quail. Placing her body at the mouth of the cave she blocked the entrance with her broad shoulders and brawler’s body. She was clearly strong, and not to be messed with, and the snarl that graced her feminine face gave her the appearance of an elegant and dangerous threat.

There was no need to encroach upon this stranger, save she was bored and there was a bird. “Hello.” She cooed in a break in her snarl. No other warning or words she lunged forward, long muzzle snapping at the quail.