Blackfeather Woods Nocturne

Another had come, and Kotake turned her head in their direction. This was a wolf whose face she recognized, and so she was not anxious when seeing it. His hate toward her family was not known to the cub, and so as he watched her mutely she did the same, her cool, unwavering gaze perhaps unsettling when coming from a face meant to be so sweet and cherubic. Other than her movement to turn her gaze toward him, Kotake was otherwise a statue. Nearby to Kotake was a day old rabbit carcass that she had been warned away from twice over. A breeze ruffled her furs, as well as the furs of the limp, cold thing nearly beside her.