Hushed Willows In Need of A Hunter?

After a quick goodbye to her mother, the yearling began to backtrack to the ridge. She knew where that was, and it was much easier for her to catch grounded things. That, and she knew where it was. She hoped Nova would be there when she was back, so she could show her the way to The Marsh for her next task. Heart thumping against her chest, she stalked her way back through familiar grounds until she'd reached her destination. She assumed these plateaus held plentiful rabbits here, and set off immediately. She moved slow, PAINFULLY slow, but couldn't handle this terrain on three paws and the fourth took time to use. Jaws open, ears pricked, and head low, the yearling began to track the strong, fresh event of rabbit. When shed finally come into view, she was able to tuck up her leg to her hip, taking off as fast as any wolf and killing the rabbit with a swift nip to its neck. 
One down, one to go. Panting, she made her way back towards Nova, stalking along her own scent trail back. The sun had shifted slightly in the sky, and she picked up her pace. She found Nova before the border, lying in a makeshift nest of willow branches. She was grooming her soft ginger and cream fur, and Grace couldn't help but smile as she remembered her mothers vanity. She dropped the hare at her paws, sitting proudly for a moment. 
       "Will you show me to the marsh?" 
The elders ghostly blue eyes stared up at her, friendly and warm as ever, and she nodded with a smile. 
Nova left her as it started to get marshy, saying shed be exactly where shed been found before. Grace shook her head at her mother and her need to be neat and clean and PRETTY all the time. The yearling, most days, only made sure there was nothing in her fur. It was tangled and messy and the scars speckling her like pink spots. 
It took her a long time to track the bird, not just because she was on four legs but because they were all too high in the trees to get right now. But soon luck struck her, and a duck flapped it's way onto the ground. Hiking up her leg, she pelted off towards it. Startled, it started to rise, but that was exactly the plan. The russet female plucked it from the air by its tail, the bird flailing for its life, and pinned it to the ground with her paws before going for the throat. Success! Now back to Nova, and call Warbone. The sun had gone even further through the sky and she hurried along the scent trail back.