Table for Three

Ashe remember why you started.    To say that Ashe was a little rusty in hunting would be an understatement. Out in the storms, the best she could find were lizards, insects. and scrub roots. After the third wild hare escaped, she realized just how out of practice she was. Ashe spent the entire morning tracking and stalking small game, traversing the old woods with familiarity, hunting with decidedly less familiarity. She'd gotten too used to the wild storms masking her scent and her sound. it was just before the sun reached its zenith that she caught an irresistible scent on the wind: deer. Newly determined, she reminded herself of what she knew, and set off with her nose to the ground.    Not two hours later, Ashe stood triumphantly over the corpse of a small doe. Her breath clouded from her bloodied jaws as she lifted her head, drawing her tongue over her teeth. She remembered in Northaven when it had been frowned upon for Shapechangers to eat raw meat---it made their Original "betters" sneer with discomfort. She had responded with devouring the heart of her quite Original Master.    She took quick stock of her surroundings before dropping her head to rip free another strip of steaming meat, the flavor both primal and explosive. Her paw braced on the exposed ribs, yanking her head back with a determined growl. The flutter of wings above drew her attention as she bit down the morsel, and there... she tilted her head. There she found a familiar white raven, a stunning little griffin beside him.    Ashe licked her jaws, golden eyes glinting with curiosity. She hadn't known the man she sparred with had been Attuned until he found her with the others, but she recognized the raven easy enough. Afternoon, Jigs. She flicked her ear, glancing at the snowy griffin before she dropped her head back down, sinking her teeth into the deer's shoulder. Never got to thank you for the storm business....care to stop for a bite and some appreciation?