Swiftcurrent Creek Keep the car running — j

May 9. Mid-afternoon at Swiftcurrent Creek borders. @Fox

Her forefeet quivered with the excruciating anticipation of a hunter as she placed them delicately while her hind legs stiffened, winding down like springs for either a foolproof or reckless moment that was yet to be determined. There was no countdown to reference. A twitch of an ear, the exaggerated, disquieted raise of its head, but no, not yet, because it was grazing again, oblivious by all appearances. Suddenly she surged forward, taking the creature by utter surprise. It dashed in the direction of its burrow, right into the impending jaws of a trim tawny wolf with predatory yellow eyes, whose neck lashed like a viper to snare the supremely fat rabbit in his unyielding grasp before properly pinning the struggling animal with one large paw and finishing it in a flash of gleaming teeth. When it went limp, he tossed it to his companion and they were on their way.

That afternoon was preceded by humidity and the smell of rain, though the amassed dark clouds only loomed threateningly low over the pair of lone wolves as they drew near to their destination. Pointed glances and visual cues were exchanged between them, but few words were required to get their intents across and to volley them back at one another. It was a shining demonstration of the natural rapport that had developed and progressed in close to a year spent travelling together. It was curious then, should their attempt be successful to join the pack who claimed the territory they now pursued, that few wolves would see them together from then on. Their partnership had been born of necessity, and on the surface only went on now because of convenience.