Luna Moth

The pack grounds were bustling. Wolves were trading materials, straining their voices to be heard over one another. Pups ran around, kicking bones around in another made up game of theirs. A small group sat off to the side, planning their latest hunt. A grizzled wolf growled at his hunting mates and asserted that no, the path through the woods would not be faster, and that they should cut their losses and go across the fields. That caused an uproar in the hunting party, and it looked like the fight would come to blows. Before it did, something changed in the air. The traders fell silent, and the pups stopped in their tracks. Even the hunting party, as vicious as that party was known to be, hid their fangs and sat quietly. She had arrived.
It was like a spirit had come to walk the earth, like the northern lights in the sky had descended just to make life more beautiful. The light bounced off her fur, and it shone brilliantly. She was the moment, wherever she went, and her presence commanded equal parts respect, hatred and admiration.
Luna Moth had arrived at what was simply the right time, all the time. She was one of the hunters, and it would be impossible to believe that blood and dirt had ever sullied her lustrous fur. Her fellow hunters knew her for what she was, however. A cold, heartless killer.
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Luna Moth loved two things- herself and the hunt. Everything else was secondary. Everything that was beautiful had purpose, and if it wasn't beautiful, it simply wasn't worth her time. Even when she was chased away from her old pack, she couldn't bother caring much about it. Even her mating was for the sake of Beauty, not for love. The Bugs found her insufferable, yet useful. Her talents were much appreciated, and she helped keep her hunting party in check, in spite of their aggression.