She used to hunt, but no more.
The rush, becoming one with the prey, the heightened senses of the predator, who can smell what they search for a mile away. The langorous relaxation of the aftermath.
The thrill of the chase is one she gave up willingly, now content as long as Romauld and the fates allow. Now she is the vulnerable one who must watch for those who don’t understand, and wish to hunt her down.