in the end, it's you against you
fighting for yourself
The wolf padded through the underbrush, moving fluidly, large paws aiming for root and stone that peeked through the frozen snow. A habit that developed as a child to keep her feet dry, it turned out to be a valuable skill in leaving as little of a trail behind her as possible. It wasn't as necessary as it once was, and she was only hunting game, not people, but old habits and all that. Even with the small harness bag on her back, Ashe moved with relative ease, breath clouding in front of her as she sniffed the air... and she smelled death.
She set off immediately. There was pheasant, mouth-watering on its own, but there was no denying the scent of decay, the earth. The blight. It didn't take her long to find the afflicted, and she stood entirely still behind the shadow of a tree when she did. The woman was hunched over, savagely ripping feathers from a dead pheasant, and a pink dragon crouched with her. Was that...?
Ashe shifted, making a point to make noise before stepping out, adjusting the straps of her harness bag. "I never took you for much of a huntress, Steadman," she said warily, staying near the tree. The midwife looked like shit, a far cry from the friendly, warm woman who had eased her mind for an evening and got her on a healthy plan. How many were infected now? She knelt slowly, so that she was Phoebe's level, eyeing the pheasant before looking up at her face. Ashe was a fan of raw meals herself, but she was a carnivore. Phoebe? Phoebe was not. "Do you want to cook it first?"
She set off immediately. There was pheasant, mouth-watering on its own, but there was no denying the scent of decay, the earth. The blight. It didn't take her long to find the afflicted, and she stood entirely still behind the shadow of a tree when she did. The woman was hunched over, savagely ripping feathers from a dead pheasant, and a pink dragon crouched with her. Was that...?
Ashe shifted, making a point to make noise before stepping out, adjusting the straps of her harness bag. "I never took you for much of a huntress, Steadman," she said warily, staying near the tree. The midwife looked like shit, a far cry from the friendly, warm woman who had eased her mind for an evening and got her on a healthy plan. How many were infected now? She knelt slowly, so that she was Phoebe's level, eyeing the pheasant before looking up at her face. Ashe was a fan of raw meals herself, but she was a carnivore. Phoebe? Phoebe was not. "Do you want to cook it first?"
ASHETTA
the stormbringer
