"Dieu bon sang." The thick french accent kissed the air as the oddly colored she-wolf dashed forward; she had spooked the animal she was after now the buck was bounding out before her with her hot on it's heels. She had wanted to avoid a chase, but god damn, this thing had spooked before she could get into lunging range. The rest of the herd spooked as well, running in all different directions as she went for the sole leader of the herd. Knowing she was going to leave it without it's male protector for the season, she would never the less have a bountiful feast. Bounding through the some what thickly wet and icy area, she easily kept her pace let alone didn't prove to tire easily either; then again this stamina was natural for her to put to use. Having a medium to long coat then most ideally would want but she kept it in prime condition knowing it was a important chore of every day to groom her self before setting out into the unknown.

That stomach grumbled as she ran after the bounding deer; it reminded her just how hungry she was. Living off of rabbits and other small mammals just weren't quite doing it for her, she had decided to go after something far bigger then a barely sized meager meal. Then again; she had no foot hold in these lands, no ties to anyone or anyone pack. Morgana planned to keep it that way, simply she did not want to be tied down. What reason or purpose would it serve her? None; she enjoyed her freedom and very few saw such an aspect of life a boon to ones self. Despite this; she did get lonely her self. Having no one around to talk to or get to know in these strange lands quite didn't make for an ideal time; then again Morgana did plan on making her self known in these lands by the assassination of iconic wolves; good or bad it mattered naught to her. As long they paid the price she would do their bidding; there was no doubt about that.

Unknowingly the more she chased the buck the closer she moved into the Tundra lands, but alas Morgana hardly paid attention to such a thing; even when they proved to both dash past yet another herd of deer, spooking them, as they ran off in the opposite direction of her hunt. The buck however got a bad spot of luck as a sickening crack filled the air; the front left leg had been snapped due to a misplacing of the footing. Morgana acted quickly while the buck tumbled to the ground from the sudden loss of balance. Jaws quickly locking them selves around that neck before titling the head back as far as it could go; she stayed behind the animal, one to avoid failing hooves and second to avoid it thrashing and pricing her with it's antlers.

Occ; Not wanting her to be claimed, mostly you can try and have a wolfie 'convince' her to join a pack

Being hungry was something that the young male had learned to numb himself to. Feeding both he and his sister had become something of a challenge. They had never learned to hunt for themselves, and had relied on instinct to get as good as they had gotten. Practice and luck, as well as the young wolves being small enough to live on hares and other rodents and have a substantial diet, were probably the only reason that they had lived so long.


He should have been drawn in by the hunt, by the dark female chasing after the buck while winter was so near. He should have been drawn into a begging state, should have tucked his tail and ears and approached the woman with caution, hoping that she would leave something of her kill for he and the scavengers that littered the area. And yet instead he was there for a single reason - the words she had spoken. They were familiar and reminded him of warmer times, when he and his siblings had a home.


The curse met his ears, and immediately he was curious, drawn toward the vixen - and in silence he watched her. She was strong, stronger than he had ever seen in motion, for a moment it took his breath away. Who was this dark lupine? This woman was nothing like the mother that lingered in his memories, and yet he was perplexed. The young male licked his jowls, his stomach giving a growl beneath him - although he ignored hunger, he was not immune to it. The blood being spilled hung around the area, and the young male realized that he was salivating.


"Vous faites regard de la chasse comme un art." He said quietly, waiting until the animal had stopped thrashing to speak. His voice was quiet, a gentle unused murmur, but more than loud enough for the orchid eyed woman to hear. The male had reached his full height of thirty three inches, but was slim, almost too thin after a roguish life from such a young age.

Panting heavily as Morgana was, she kept her hold on the animals neck unwilling to let it go. The deer thrashed and struggled as it's life ebbed away bit by bit; Morgana's hold proving to be suffocating. What a way to go, to fight with all you had as your breath was literately taken away. Panting as she was through the sides of her mouth that hold only tightened as she bit harder against the animals neck; it was then a scent came to her. One of a rogue, one that shouldn't be there. Those eyes peered past the animal to the younger male that approached her and the now stilling deer; it struggled and thrashed a few more times before it was over. Able to let go finally as Morgana let that tongue slip over those blackened lips and muzzle that of which had been stained red by the blood of the animal.

All too familiar lyrics left the boys maw causing the dame to blink once as she stared at him. "C'est un art, celui qui prend des ann?es pour se perfectionner." The home land vocals left her, it had been too long perhaps since Morgana had heard another speak such foreign words one that her family had been built upon. The boy's hunger and salivating maw hadn't gone unnoticed along with his thin and starving for. "Boy, pourquoi n'?tes-vous pas avec vos a?n?s, votre sac ? dos?" Letting the words pass through her maw once again, those eyes shifted to the deer just resting just before her being between her and the male rogue before her.

She spoke, and he found that he was hooked on her words - each syllable a reminder and more beautiful than any of the speech (or lack thereof) that he had surrounded himself with as of late. Perhaps she was right, and hunting was art, but in his eyes she was strung together more beautifully than even her words. Appreciative, admiring, but at a year old it went no further than that despite her obvious femininity. Perhaps that would never change, so stunted in emotional and social growth that the young male seemed to be. He should have been intimidated, yet he stared idly at the female's bloodstained maw, expressionless, yet completely fixated.

"Je n'ai pas d'a?n?s, seulement ma soeur." Silana should be in northern lands, wandering not too far away from him. He would bring her something to eat if he could, but the hares were getting springier as they grew thinner - they were getting to be less and less of a meal. And then he couldn't help but wonder why she wanted to know who he stayed with. Was she worried about a stranger? Put off by a skinny boy staring at she and her meal so intensely? It was hard for the skinny male to understand the thoughts and actions of others, but he took each one as a lesson learned.

"I am Aeron." He said, the same way that he had spoken to Taurig, to Hajime, to Basilisk. Although he didn't feel for this woman the way that he did for his sister, he wanted to be polite. Something had stirred just enough for him to strain to be on his best behavior - even though he wasn't sure just what that entailed. Perhaps it was because she was guarding what could be an easy meal, perhaps it was because she herself was unlike anyone he had ever met before, and so far he couldn't help but be impressed.

Eyes narrowed slightly as the boy spoke of not having a pack only his sister, what was he doing all the way out here then? Hunting? Morgana knew not and wouldn't divulge into such a conversation save a few questions for him. "Vous ne survivrez pas longtemps les deux de vous, d'?tre si jeune et sans un paquet. Vous devez en trouver un et de s'y tenir jusqu'? l'hiver passe ou que vous venez peut trouver votre auto s'?tendant dans la neige mourir." Having chosen to speak yet truthfully so; her words were harsh but crystal clear for the boy and his unfortunate sister. They were making a mistake by being alone; having no pack to call their own. Even if they weren't readily all that active within it, it was something they had to do. If not for him self then for his sibling.

Lowering that head to the deer Morgana grasped it by the neck before she began to drag it out of the open; for she wasn't looking forward to eating where scavengers would bug her to no end until she finished her meal. Reaching a few sparse trees and a few dead bushes it would have to do. Letting go she moved to the stomach before readily ripping it open; firstly ridding of the less desirable organs before picking out one for her self to start one. Fresh and steamy in the frigid air; ah Morgana had been waiting some time for a proper meal like this. For the moment, the boy wasn't paid too much attention from Morgana for he was clearly no threat.