Spirit has been absent for a few days, gone off into seclusion deep in the mountains, far from where she could hurt anyone. Anyone sentient, at least. She knew in her soul that other beings were sentient in their own way but it was...easier, to forget. To forget the lives she's lived as the wild, untamed animals.

To try and forget the times she's been killed over others thinking she was some rabid creature.

This time in her rage, she'd gone head to head with one of the mountain lions that plagued the mountain range, somehow managing to keep it's pelt rather bite mark free before getting distracted by some other moving object. By the time she had come to her senses, it was early in the morning.

And she had a damn corpse to take care of.

Spirit had set herself to work, delicately snipping away and peeling with an expert's hand...claw..teeth...until the pelt was freed. Setting it meat side up in the sun to dry, she then tucked into the feline like it was the first meal she's had in days (it was). After she had her fill, and drank, washed what blood from her fur she could...she checked on the pelt.

Dry, and clean as she could get it without any proper tools.

Spirit carefully rolled the pelt into a tube, before picking it up and slinging it over her back, wincing when one of her wounds made itself known on the back of her neck. She'll need one of the doctors to see to that, it wasn't one she could reach herself...

But before that, she had a gift to deliver, an apology for not being around.

The white warrior vaguely knew where Nyra's den was, and headed in that direction, letting her nose guide her the rest of the way. Outside the den, she gave a quiet woof of greeting in case the Fullvalda was in, though given the sun was still going to be up for some hours yet she doubted it. After waiting a moment, she shrugged the pelt off her shoulders and set it down at the entrance before turning and making her exit.

Was this very similar to an outdoor cat leaving a mouse on your doorstep? Yeah, what of it?