Funny, she never would have imagined coming back here. Her first exploration into the the wrecked ship had eneded with her being rapidly evicted by Cattina, but now the structure stood mysteriously empty, leaving no clue as to where the Empress had gone. An extended hunting trip had been cut short by yet another blizzard, and she had been forced to abandon her kill and seek shelter.
She hopped through the gaping hole in the ship's side, a fat elk haunch and leg held in her jaws. She dropped the piece and looked ruefully out at the snowstorm. The rest of her hard-won kill would be buried by the time the snow was over, and might have to be left to scavengers. It galled her, but she was rapidly learning that life was nothing like it was in the bards' tales. With a sigh, she plopped down on the floor, holding the leg between her paws and gnawing at the near-frozen meat. She wondered if Raven and Ryouta would be mad if she was late coming back to the cave. Well, she figured the worst she would get was a tongue-lashing and maybe a nip. They were scary, but she didn't think--for the moment, at least--that they were going to kill her. Besides, she would need to face up to them eventually, when the spring melt came.
Her eyes strayed outside again, and she wondered if anyone else was caught in the blizzard. She was no tundra wolf, but likely anyone else who lived here would be used to it."Speech"
Snow was something that the male was accustomed to, so this blizzard of sorts provided no obstacle to the brute. His large feet sank into the cold delight and would surly leave quite a path for those to come after him should his tracks remain uncovered. The snow clung to his thick, dark furs - wetting the tendrils and clumping them together. His good eye swept the premises, ears alert like always.
Each encounter with a native brought up questions, questions he wanted to ask that his tongue would let him. He was a man of few words, living by the truth that actions spoke louder than words. A reserved, yet austere general. He found words lacking what a simple gesture could do, so he used them sparingly. And when he did use words they were calculating, manipulated by a hidden motive.
By some queer stroke of luck, he happened upon the remnants of a fresh kill. Brows furrowed as he pondered over who could or better, would have left their kill. Perhaps one who want a creature of the cold. Though he was full, he took it upon himself to tear free a piece from the dead creature and consume it. The blood felt nice and warmed his eternally cold insides. It was then that he followed the blood trail to an interesting ship. Now, this was yet another new thing. Fresh blood still dripping from his jowls, he shoved his way inside. He was met by the presence of another fair creature. Handsome smirk slithered across his blood stain visage. His only greeting, now he saw who had left the kill outside in the cold.
She tensed, ears pricking as a clanking noise emanated from the rip in the ship's side. She watched as a black creature hauled it's way through, soot-colored coat mantled with white frost. Her eyes narrowed warily and she lowered her head, ears slicking back. She had learned not to bound up to strangers like a pup. The scent of blood on his muzzle drew her attention, and she suppressed a growl of frustration as she realized that he had helped himself to the hard-won kill she had been forced to abandoned.
"And you are?" she asked, none too politely. She was aware she couldn't claim ownership to this ship, but she wasn't sure how she felt sharing it for the duration of the storm. There was something about this male that set her on edge. She wasn't sure if it was his imposing frame, missing eyes, or simply his unsettling smirk. He was a looker, that was true, but she wasn't so stupid as to equate good looks with a kind demeanor."Speech"
