Having stalked, run down, and killed a young caribou calf after her grueling manhunt, the large DarkWolf had successfully sated the bloodlust that held her shadowed form like the icy grip of death. Licking the remnants of splattered crimson from her maw, the jet black form moving effortlessly across the white and fresh green seemed a seemless monster from some dark fairytale, with blood upon her and her ice blue eyes shining like some nightmarish reaper.

She shook herself as she entered the fringes of her territory, and started up the ragged, jagged slopes that would lead to the cliff's edge where she could look over and across to the little town of Nome. Nothing but a speck among the vastness of the tundra. Slowly emerging above, she soon spotted a visitor among the old rocks. A very, unwelcome, visitor. It was Aranok.

At first NightTracker snarled, and her hackles rose almost emidiately. Her nails click clacked over the uncovered granite as she made a half circle around the other black wolf. The only one she has seen, other than White Ember himself, who equaled her stride for stride. Lupine maw wrinkles into a malicious, vicious grin. Come to play with the devil? She seemed to say with eyes glittering like cold fire. Then an itching, like an old wound scratched at the back of her mind.  Dont attack him... it whispered. Remember what you are..

Somewhere, deep inside herself, her borne instinct was trying to call her back into the world of the living. Of the sane, of the true wolf. Somewhere within that writhing, black mass of confusion, sadness, and unfathomable hatred, there lay a wounded wolf looking for forgiveness, for compassion, and for love. Somewhere deep inside, her heart was straining at the chains she had placed around it, at the meer sight of the other before her. Perhaps it was that the two had something in common. Or perhaps it was just her previous nature of wanting to have a pack. To lead, to hunt, to love and to nurture.

Shaking her head, her growling had ceased and her head rose to a proud hight, yet her sharp ears drew back along the crevices of her crania in a deep, uneasy thought. Her body said she was relaxed, her stride held confidence. her eyes, held almost a type of sorrow.

"Why are you here, Aranok.. this is my land." NightTracker's voice was deep and dark, twinged vaugely with regret for the way she spoke, but posture denying she thought twice.

~NightTracker