They Called It Chaos

The snow beneath her paws was a welcome feeling. Cold, frigid, like the unmoving heart of a warrior. Bernadette would breathe in as she walked along the path of the caverns, her claws making small click-clack-click noises upon the ground where she stepped. Her heart was beating within her chest, a sign that the great beast was still alive. Was she a legend? No. Far from a legend, or a goddess. She was but a warrior, one who was on the right path. The path she felt was right anyway.

The cold would shift, seeming to get deeper into her bones as the light faded from the world. Bernadette worked her body through the snow, building up a sweat that felt almost invigorating. It was not quite the same as the thrill of a spar but it was something to get her heart rate up and her blood flowing. Eventually however the young woman would slow, turning her gaze to the moon.

Bi-colored eyes shown in the setting darkness, her mind at work. Hunger gnawed at the pit of her stomach in a way that demanded she fill the need of food. Food... prey... hunting... The bulky beast would breathe out in a small laugh. What fun that could be! The female was one who would live in the moment, breathing and doing as her heart wanted. Bernadette would scent the air, catching the scent of geese. Ohh, now there would be a tasty treat.

Bernadette would stalk through the snow, mind now set upon her prize. She licked her chops, determination shining in those mixed eyes. She would crunch through the snow softer now, until finally gaze landed upon the fowl. Ahh such plump little critters they were. She would swish her tail back and forth almost in a cat-like manner before she rushed in for the kill.

...and what a kill it was.

The goose had tried in vain to take off, caught mid-air in the jaws of the hungry she wolf. She would land with a plop in the snow, settling down and wasting no time in tearing into the flesh. Dinner was served.