then grace takes me to a place

Aithne

I can feel the flames on my skin

Aithne runs below, no longer caring about the trail of fire she leaves in her wake. The thrill of the hunt is in her bones, and she yips excitedly as more and more blood drips around her. Overhead, the dying falcon lets out a strangled cry, spurring Aithne on and driving the hunt.

The moment that Soren lets the falcon fall is met with a triumphant snarl. It tumbles through the air, seemingly disoriented. Despite the flailing wings, Aithne leaps to meet the bird midair, clamping her jaws around whatever part of it she can (which happens to be a wing joint). As she lands, paws pounding dirt once more, she shakes her head, salivating at the taste of iron as it floods her mouth. The bird flips around in her grip, and she hears a snap - disappointingly, it's just the wing, and the bird cries out, slashing blindly with talons that scrape harmlessly over her stony hide.

With a broken wing, the falcon isn't going to go far now, and Aithne lets it drop into a heap upon the ground. She howls for Soren to join her, offering him the killing blow, and steps out of the way.

Crimson-red paint on my lips