I do not fear the bumps in the night

Arayne nodded. Hunting sounded good to her. A scent trail was easier to follow than a dirt trail. "I am kind of hungry." she admitted. While being a rogue was refreshingly free, it did have a few downsides; Namely, having to hunt for herself. When she was a princess, most of her meals had been provided by her father's professional hunters. She rarely killed anything larger than a beaver, or, on rare occasion, an elk or buffalo calf. But she was no expert hunter, and now, in winter, it showed. She looked just a little bony, her pelt a little less shiny. She could do with a good meal.

"In fact," she sniffed the air, then sniffed again, deeper, "I think I smell a deer over that way." She turned away and trotted after the smell, ears held forward.

The 'deer' turned out to be nothing more than a buck's scrape and a pile of droppings, but next to them were the telltale tracks deep in the mud. "Come on, this way!" she called, bounding after the tracks, nose to the ground.