Tip-Toe Through The Window

She had been on her own for so long. She had finally learned to sort of hunt, but not big game. She was decent at hunting rabbits but surviving off of rabbits and small prey animals weren't enough. The girl was practically starving, and it only served to further send her into psychological and physiological decline. Her ribs were visible beneath her scraggly pelt, but for Medusa, this was considered pretty normal. It was how she'd been living for her entire life after her mother abandoned her. She was a literal hermit, avoiding most every animal that wasn't dead and living in the swamps for nearly her whole life. There was the time she had come across a wolf with wings who had fed her once, but hell if she remembered who he was or where he lived. But as the colder weather closed in on the swamps along with the lack of food and carrion, she forced herself to venture out and find better hunting grounds, so to speak.

She approached the borders of the nook, and although she could smell the many scents of other wolves, she could also smell food. Her mouth began to salivate and her stomach twisted in painful knots. She never had the proper education on what to do when you're at a pack's border, but...then again, she was never educated in anything. She was a social mess, with no regard for what was appropriate or inappropriate. All she knew was food kept her alive...or at least a little less dead. Licking her lips, she passed the border without a second thought as she sought out the source of where the food might be.