death-meant

A large shadow on the dry riverbed, it’s back to the evening star.
 
The tiger’s tail flicked. As ever, in her senses lived the baser suggestion of wolf. Uninspiring. Stelmaria refreshed her sensibilities with a shake, languid from whisker to tail-tip, and sniffed the earth. Clayey, mustiness; rain the night before revitalized underlying smells and the older notion of deer was scorned with a chuff in favor of spoor that interested her in a finer way. Boar.
 
Unlike the deer, this large sow had passed through very recently. She likely had piglets with her, though they would perforce scatter to the four corners of the world and not be enjoyed on Stelmaria's account.
 
Savoring the rich bloom of preyscent in her nose, the tigress surmised that she was behind perhaps only by minutes. Confidence fortified, she stalked on, quiet and more intentional now in her step along the trail; redstart eyes raking over movement, any movement, between the trees.
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A tiger.

The smell was unshakable, and thought she only heard of them and never seen.. It was undeniable there was one only distances away. A large feline, one of orange and black stripes ; each step they take with fear and prowess that a wolf could not match. They were unlike any mountain lion that was seen, and could rival even bears itself — and thus a small wolf like herself, as of no match.

She knew not of the temperate of the other, but hide within the shrubs of the land and laid low, making quite sure she was downwind enough to hopefully, be at bay from the beast.. They were looking for something, the cats eyes scanning the forests around and standing menacingly within the forests itself.. All could Miriam do was pray, she would not be discovered.

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(Thank you for joining, and so sorry about the delay!) 

The wind was not blowing in her favor, but the sun was still low in the sky, so the sharpness of her vision was preserved for a while longer.
 
To tremble was to err. There was no hiding.
 
Stelmaria took quick stock of the creature without approaching where the small wolf crouched. Her tongue washed her whiskers, tail lashing with irritation. It was a canine's game to wag.
 
“She-wolf,” the tigress addressed Miriam, fixing her intense gaze on the wolf's face. Her temper was quelled despite the squeeze of hunger in her belly. “Does my breakfast cower with you?”
 
Ah, how problematic for her when neighbors improved on their ambitions. She was a tolerant cat until her demands for food went unmet.

Presently, Stel looked around, indolent, seeking this one's retinue.
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it's ok! no need to apologize, i'm often delayed too!

---

Though caught, a powerful voice boomed over and approached her within the bush ; the winds lying to her secretive cover only to be discovered by such a beast of stripes. She was afraid to charge, but they simply came forward with a voice of a surprise, never expecting one to talk to her so.. She was still cowered, only raising her body to not appear as if she continued hiding, for there was no point now she was discovered. Though continued within a submissive pose, her ears back and tailed cowered, admittingly, with slightly shakey legs.

"I do not mean to intrude on your meal.. I have no intentions to take what is yours." She tried to assure with a quiver, that it was a coincidence to come upon and by no means was to compete with the others meal, or think selfishly to steal so. Miriam wouldn't dream of such an act against someone like them.

She gazed around lightly, at the very least she was safe with the boar not being around her.

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( <3 )

Intentions, intentions. Amusing words from a little wolf.

“Will wonders never cease?” A humorless shine touched her eyes. Her mouth. After all, a wolf this size and this alone would need more than just designs on any meal of hers!
 
As it went, there was no intrusion if there was no meal. Her boar might now be in a different part of the forest, secure with the knowledge that predators were in the area.
 
Her tail flicked behind her like a bright dancing cobra. Stelmaria was not stupid, she knew that the world of wolves was unlike anything she knew. They did not exist in singularity and relied on each other in many ways, most of which were incomprehensible to her.
 
Yet Miriam was—seemingly—alone. Nature flowing backward. It was an oddity. A curiosity.
 
She set thoughts of her meal aside (a rare occasion indeed), stirred by the indignity of intrigue. Wasn’t there some maxim about cats and curiosity?
 
“Your group abandoned you?” Stel presumed, feigning indifference. She eased back on her haunches.
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Orange, stripped ; intimidating. A beast that spoke of riddles and puzzles, and another day Miriam would perhaps try and converse and understand so.. But that was for a wolf. Calm when came to the face of them and even danger, but for a predator that was the peak of the forest itself, she knew not how to react except any submissive wolf would be. Her ears continued back and tail legged, careful, with every movement and every word ; wide eyes that showed that fear and hesitance to move, or say even more. Lightly did her legs nearly buckle under her, but she stayed firm in position.

"No.. I am a loner. It was of my age to stay or leave ; I left." Her words full of fear and shake but spoke in an attempted precision. She was not abandoned, Miriam made sure — she was a wanderlust, a loner and wayfarer of a nomadic life and wonder. To see the world and all that it was! A dream, as long as she did not perish under the fangs of the feline.

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(Poor Miriam ;; stinky kitty)

If Stelmaria was influenced one way or another by the she-wolf's plead of submission -- the hysterics of it! -- she did not let it not shape her reaction any. Tch! Only wolves' talkative bodies would betray them so. 

But let her cower, nonetheless. A feline's appetite came second only to a lusty devotion to her own ego, and Miriam was feeding that quite well by this point.

(Never mind that canines tasted deplorable; it would be a curse upon her stomach!)

The tigress hummed softly at the little wolf's clarification. Not abandoned. Left, willingly. Loyalty was for the birds, she was quick to suppose. Not that she herself would know anything about loyalty.

As if to flaunt her disinterest in the same way Miriam showed her subordination, Stel began to preen her paws, speaking only when it suited her and not a moment sooner. "You would not even be worth the effort to kill," she said abruptly; not even meant as an insult, only plain revelation. The stench of fear was becoming a distraction, impossible to ignore. Something had to be said.

And then she continued on with, "what led you to this choice? Is it not like your kind to use each other, rely on one another?"

It was a situation both comprehensible and incomprehensible to her. Relatable and un-relatable. Respectable, and unrespected.
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Even as the other tried an assurance she would not be harmed, Miriam did not let up. She knew well as wolves, to show submissiveness or flee when the tides were not at her table. As should any wolf would learn, and surely a beast before her, of beauty and brawn, stripes unlike any wolf that can carry (so she assumes), could change their mind within an instant. The only shift that was given was a slightly better stature, adjusting herself upwards a bit more taller then legs wide open. Although her ears continued to slick back, cowing lightly with tail tucked tightly between her legs. Deep breaths, Miriam reminded herself.

The Goddess let this meeting come through and yet to be hurt ; maybe the maiden was safe for the meanwhile.

"I wanted to see the world, a wayfaring selfish whimsical to see what I am blinded to from my homelands walls." Blessed as it was, an Orchid in the very sense of a haven of wysterias with gardens like no other. A nirvana for wandering soles as the wolves there cherished the Goddess and the guardian, the Horned God deeply so. There to take any souls that needed help, and for the long while, they remained with a peace. She hopes even now, nothing has happened.

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