Phoenix Maplewood Teach me, Master

She watched carefully the way that Desna lingered over the rabbit droppings then, satisfied with what she'd found, began moving deeper into the woods. The alpha followed carefully in the girl's wake, tracing her footsteps almost perfectly. Wolves were well-known for that—they liked to step in each other's exact prints. It made travel easier in winter but, more importantly, masked the exact number of wolves in the area.

But now was not the time for thinking of pawprints. She followed Desna closely, not so closely that she would intimidate but close enough to watch around the broad juvenile's body, as Desna slunk lower and lower. The young wolf's head whipped around to spot her, but Saena gestured with her nose that the other should keep her eye on the hares ahead. It would do no good if Desna's movement sent them scattering and she didn't see where they went.

Now was the critical moment. She watched the wave of the youth's tail, knowing it was something that would take time for Desna to control, and she observed with bated breath the juvenile's approach. Slow, steady. Not half bad, really. But then Desna stepped into the bushes and the crackle of twigs sent the hare's heads skyward, and Saena squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment. She remained still as a statue, even though she felt the outcome of Desna's hunt was now certain, just in case the cub could take back control somehow.