Ouroboros Spine Under the bludgeonings of chance

Salamander was beyond frustrated. She hated to lose, especially in front of a superior, and especially to something as tiny and fragile as a rabbit. But it hadn't been the rabbit which had defeated her - not entirely. It had been her own pride, her own competitive nature which had blocked out her partner during the chase. This was not something she would admit to, though. Instead the russet woman would brood and pace, glare at the back of Tonravik's head when she wasn't paying attention, or claw at the dirt beneath them. Little things. Had she been hunting with anyone else, and Salamander would have let loose a string of profanities upon her partner; no doubt blaming them for the misdirection and ultimately the failure. No such words would pass her lips today, not in the presence of her leader. And when Tonravik seemed interested in something new, when she looked to Salamander as if to bade her to follow once more, the red girl silently obeyed. Her tail was lashing behind her like a whip and her paws bit heavy chunks from the soil every so often, marking it with angry claws, but she followed.