Snow the Ghost

She had not been part of Covari long, but the wind walker had already sought to prove herself with finding prey to hunt. The harsh winters were no strangers to her and she was able to cope with them faster than other wolves might have because of where she was born and how she was raised. She had stolen to survive just as she had for sport, though she would not steal from Covari. She had been nimble on her feet as she darted swiftly through the range at very fast speeds, almost like a jack rabbit running from wolves of slow speeds. She kept her nose open as her eyes darted around the surroundings. If only there was food for her to hunt, then she would be happy!


There was always food; one just had to find a way to get to it. She skidded to a halt, making more noise than she had running, which was not a lot as her feet barely grazed the snow for longer than a second when she ran. It was another one of the traits she had learned as a bandit in the lands of always winter. She dared not return there because too many knew the sigil that was her masked face from their nightmares and starving children. She had not cared for the children that belonged to other packs, only for the children of her former pack and now the children of Covari. That was who she had and who she still was concerned about feeding.