A Yak of All Trades.

Rakia moved with a purpose through the gleaming landscape - the dry and dusty riverbed beneath her paws felt as firm as bone. Her icy blue eyes glinted with an unwavering determination, reflecting the midday winter sun. The pristine marble cliffs, steep and daunting, stretched out on either side of her, their white, gray, and golden hues providing a constant reminder of the beauty that could be found even in such desolate places.

She kept her nostrils flared, picking up on the unique scent of their quarry - the strong, earthy musk of a lone Yak. She moved along the path of the ancient riverbed that was layered in snow. Ears pricked forward, her breath steaming slightly in the biting cold. The white landscape was mercilessly bright under the midday sun – so bright that it seemed to blur the edges of her vision and made her squint. However, the brightness also revealed what they had been tirelessly tracking. A series of large hoofprints. The Yak's. Their next victim’s.

"Rakia Perreau"