2/19/2026, 10:27 PM
The woman was slim, even with the thickness of her winter coat failing to hide the way her skin clung to bone like soaked silk. She spoke stiffly, but the wave of her tail was friendly and her words split the tense, cold air with praise.
The huntress did not know her packmate's story; did not need to, did not care for sordid details. Midge was a practical woman, and focused her attention on the problems she could see and identify. Skinny enough for the cold to pose a deadly risk, scarred enough to make the huntress surprised at the woman's survival, and Midge of course interpreted the she-wolf's stiff greeting to be shyness initially.
A few of those problems were easily addressed with the magic of a shared meal and a smile. The huntress trod closer, prancing through the chest-deep snowdrifts with a huff and a puff until she was close enough to toss the rabbit into the she-wolf's orbit. A bob of her head emphasized; this is for you. It'd end up in one of her packmate's bellies one way or another, anyway.
Saoirse
