The Feral North

Out and about, that's what she could call her time at the moment. Truthfully, she was out to hunt up a deer in order to show Jace how to make jerky. That's how it worked in her mind. She would teach some one something if they taught her something. He had been teaching her so much as of late, all of it pertaining to the pack. Strangely, it was the Vargamore that's supposed to hold down all that pack mojo. And they weren't even into the Munin and how that all happened, she couldn't hear their voices before. Ulfric had changed that, her tie with him.

It was likely she was going to end up tied to them all before too much longer. Then how was she supposed to be all secluded, but, that dream kept coming around. Some nights it held other animals. Ones she had never beheld before. Great dog-like beasts that were brown and black spotted, having a high pitched snicker. Something that was unnerving, or disturbing. Rowdy hadn't ever troubles with that though, no. In her dreams and visions, that beast, for all the odd and scary it was, happened to be benevolent and valiant. Other dreams held the snow and a winter fox. Although it wasn't small, it was still shy and skittish, still held terror with the sight of the gyrfalcon. In a way, that disturbed Rowdy, but nothing could be done.

Sometimes there were great cats. Some of them holding dark spots on golden or white fur, or black as midnight where those spots were tough to discern. Striped cats that came in colors of orange or white. Those held black as well, though the stripes stood out as white instead of hidden within the base black. Great felines that had fur the color of the golden blades of grass that could be seen on the prairie. All of them making a variety of noises that all were multiuniversal, save for the white spotted ones. They sounded like normal housecats, with meows and chirps.*

So, perched up on a branch, off a game trail. Rowdy held her bow in hand. Hand crafted in recent years as her old one finally needed retired. This one was wrapped in leather, worn with several decades of age. The aboriginal woman had already restrung it, twice. Currently, she had an arrow nocked. Seated and ready for the bow string to be drawn back and fired. Her mind was milling over night visions while her eyes, those golden hues were searching, using the sight of the Gyrfalcon to discern movement. The thought struck her about maybe teaching the young Ulfric how to hunt with bow and arrow. And then her mind blanched. He held not the patience, and would be more than capable of capturing prey on his own.

"Bah," spilled from her lips as she kept her eyes alert. Sure enough, there was movement, and it looked as though it was on the path that she was watching. Slipping from the elevated perch, the Ojibwe woman landed as silently as humanly possible and then moved forward enough to be out of the way, yet still fire an arrow and bury it firmly into the side of the deer. Sure enough the doe came into sight. Carefully, she drew the bow back, and waited. Rowdy ensured that the animal wasn't a mother. Then she let fly and hit the mark. Burying the arrow into its side striking the heart.

No need to chase it down, no need to break its neck. The animal died a good death. A clean kill. Placing her bow around her body, the string holding the belly of the bow tight to her back. Rowdy wasted no time pulling the felled game off the trail. Soon enough, the animal was dangling from a thick tree limb, its neck split open for the blood to spill upon the ground, to drain the carcass. A little more time slipping past and the kill was now on the ground, her knife slipped the belly of the beast affording the skilled hands of the hunter to remove organs that were going to be left as an offering to the predators of the forest. Left over blood coated her hands, coloring them claret as well as the bone knife she happened to be using.




(( *Zoology fact; snow leopards, in fact, cannot roar like the rest of big cats can, they only make sounds like house cats. On that note, the do not purr, either.))

It was far easier to hunt in the cool crisp air of the mountains since the betraying snow had melted or slid away from the more prized spots. Gabriel couldn't count how many times even the smallest of prey had escaped his maw just from the split seconds warning of crushing snow beneath clawed paw. Snicker snack it had gone, and so to had they prey. But again, the snow was gone and once again the large black tiger could resume his usual routine of patrolling the tiger lands and hunting further into the mountains. Twice already since the warm seasons had come the Bao had landed a large animal to drag and devour back on familiar lands. In one case, he displayed a large twelve point buck on the back porch, his massive black frame dancing with the neck of the deer still carried in his mouth. Bailey seemed pleased, free meat meant less spent on food. Or maybe his Queen was just glad to see him out and moving after the whole avalanche incident.

Either way, Gabriel had returned to his considerable full strength, and was more then happy to delve outside the reaches of the Tiger lands for the need to hunt. The naked black, silver striped monster went sauntering through the mid day sun, letting all that warm light bathe and reflect against his dark fur. It felt good, much more natural then the biting cold could ever be. Not that he didn't like the cold, it was certainly needed for sleep. But any other time it was just an inconvenience, something that augmented every facet of life. Gaining several miles of space between himself and the lands designated for the tigers, Gabriel caught the first indications of prey. That unique and musky aroma that said happily, look at me, I'm a deer. The half ton cat stalked closer and closer to the wafting smell that promised meat and the excitement of a chase. It would certainly serve as his first non dull moment of the day.

Forward. Nose up. Eyes darting everywhere. Gabriel padded along the soft trail path that the doe had traveled on. He was getting closer and closer, he could almost taste the creature on his tongue. An unfamiliar thunk sounded through the air, followed by a clear crash of flesh to the ground. The black tiger paused in place, his great dark eyes blinking and steadying at the point of the sounds origin. What had that sound been? And the crash? Had the deer walked into a trap of some kind or perhaps slipped and broken it's leg? A taste of the immediate wind that blew his way certainly proved that there was blood in the air. The blood of deer. If it was hurt, or snagged in a bear trap, the thing would have to be put out of it's misery. The Bao wasn't one to leave any animal suffering, even if it was suppose to serve as his meal none the less. With a soft groan in his throat, the tiger strolled forward, keeping crouched only slightly.

The tiger knew his mistake the moment he made it. Rising out from the edge of view, Gabriel beheld a woman in leather skins cleaning the deer. His body locked up and paused, black eyes staring forward as in a panic he thought about turning and running. That would probably be best, but he was most assuredly seen by this female not more then thirty feet from him. If he ran, then she may report the sighting to law enforcement, and the last thing he or his clan needed was a group of hunters tracking Tiger, which there was no way he could hide. So, the tiger just stood perfectly still, his maw tightly closed, a paw stretched out in mid step. Black eyes stared into the model perfect face of the young woman armed with the bow, watching her, waiting and examining any movements she would make.

Gutting the animal was always the easy part. It was the lugging the dang thing home that would likely be a pain in the rear, however, she was used to such things. Rowdy was more than content to get everything ready to be taken back to the Estate. Yes, she was going to show her Ulfric how to skin the animal. Her hand once more disappeared into the cavity of the animal, turning her head just slightly enough that she caught sight of something highly unusual.

One giant animal. For a moment, she thought it was a young moose, but second glance told her that this was no moose. It had stripes and was feline. Golden hues locked with obsidian colored orbs, and the ageless woman froze in place, elbow deep in the chest cavity. Her fingertips were ready to curl around the heart and remove it. With all movement arrested except her breathing, the aboriginal stared at him for several heartbeats.

Her tongue touched her lips and pressed her body forward enough to fully wrap her hand around the deer's heart. With the finesse of almost four centuries experience, Rowdy twisted the muscle. The tissue, unable to withstand the forces and wrenching that she applied, tore free. The entire motion that she applied to the innard of the carcass, her eyes didn't leave his, nor did they blink. No, those honey colored eyes stayed very fixed on the massive predator that was staring at her,

Straightening, she removed the lifeless organ, her head still turned to face the striped animal. Should she offer the heart to the feline? Well, she would likely offer it to one of the wolves if they came around, she had done it a few other times. Taking a moment and a breath, she held up the bloodied, cooling organ as an offering to him. Rowdy waited to see if he would move towards her to accept the 'peace offering' of the most tender part of the animal or not.