Phoenix Maplewood can't feel my face

Re-post.

Since her encounter with Saena, Reggie had avoided the wolves altogether, including Reek. She only spent time with Sart, particularly when the two of them slept together in the hollow tree. For the most part, though, she sought solitude. She slipped discreetly from place to place, sticking to the forest's heart and alternating between exploring, hunting and scratching at her flea-bitten hide.

This morning, she felt slightly less itchy. Perhaps the cold was helping with the fleas. Whatever the cause, she didn't question it. The whelp set out into the woods, skirting around the fallen leaves to avoid making a sound. It was getting tougher as more and more of them fell to the ground. Soon there would be a veritable carpet of them.

Many small rodents were working on their winter stores and the young coyote was capitalizing on it. In the past few days alone, she had become quite an adept mouser. Fortunately, Regipre's personality lent itself to the patience, silence and stillness necessary to pounce the little vermin. She could catch several a day, which meant she didn't need to rely on Reek and the pack so much.

After capturing a particularly chubby mouse, Reggie crushed its head and carried its limp body toward the roots of a maple. She circled three times and then slumped to the ground, partially concealed as she quickly gulped down her small catch.