Wardruna trailed the strong scent of the cat to the southern borders of their home, where beyond the dark silhouette of the raven forest could be seen in the distance. For now, Carnifex studying would be put aside, as Wardruna commanded the tiger's attention with a sharp bark. Her stance was one risen with pride and might, despite the obvious size difference between the pair. Her tail high, rigid above her.

Wardruna was a large wolf and with it she had learned her place on the battlefield, her capability, her weaknesses. It was the same with the hunt. She was slower than many of her brethren, clumsy at a full run the same. Wardruna was well practiced as the take down for large prey. Yet this? A tiger. Like a bear, one swipe could very well be the end of her. In this situation, as any many when it came to survival, the lone wolf would die, yet the pack would survive.

The tiger, slower, a predator which got tired far easier, would not last against a number of wolves, but this was no true battle. Wardruna was only curious to see the might of a tiger in action, one which now held a place as Sentry among her people. She woofs again, tail waving like a banner back and forth and she stomps her feet playfully against the cool earth.