Snippet: She was an accomplished solo hunter when she had Vhenan to feed – her instincts ran strong despite the fact that she had never been taught by her family just how to hunt. She had taught herself, partially with her own instincts and the rest by watching other hunters of the predator kind. Her favorite species to emulate was the cats – they tended to be fast, efficient hunters that rarely let anyone steal their kills. She stalked along the edge of a dilapidated building, her head lowering slightly as she inhaled the scents of the deer. Not much larger than her, the deer bore wide branching antlers, and tree-trunk brown fur which helped them camouflage within the forests, though here is only hindered them, their bodies dark against the snow.
Vhenan couldn't help himself but sneak forward to watch his friend hunt, she was poetry in motion. He watched as her dainty body flowed across the snow, her entire body tensed up as the deer scattered. She paused for a moment, her head moving from deer to deer before focusing on a single individual. Their rumps flashed as she kept her attention all on just one deer, her teeth seeking to meet in flesh with every long-reaching leap. He watched as the muscles in her hind-legs tensed before she sprang forward with another flash of the sharp teeth, watched as blood sprayed the ground when the she-wolf nicked a vein. Soon she was no longer black and white in color, but highlighted with red as she wore down her prey with seemingly inexhaustible energy.
A slashing hoof caught her just a glancing blow that knocked her flying with a yelp, but she recovered with a shake and the slightest limp to confront the small deer head-on. The head was lowered, those branching antlers brandished in her direction, though she didn't look scared, instead uttering a rather excited, yipping growl as she threw herself up at the deer in a final, deadly movement that had her hanging down from the throat of that fighting deer. How long the battle had gone on, Vhenan had not a single clue, but it looked like Singer was getting the better of the meal. She still hung from the throat, the deer moving so fast that at times she had no footing, and yet at other times she had all feet on the ground where she could tug and pull so that the seeping blood began to spurt, and the deer quivered, rolling its eye as it began to collapse, and tremble in its death throes.
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