Sleeping Dragon my beautiful dark twisted fantasy

"Oh, yes," Wildfire said, nodding sagely. "Larger prey can obviously range much farther. You could theoretically track an ungulate—a deer or elk—over dozens of miles and several days." Her brows lifted inquisitively as she regarded Freyja. Perhaps she would specialize in tracking then, rather than a specific prey type. It was sort of ironic that she hadn't pursued such a field herself, what with her penchant for roaming.

"And snow," she continued in the next breath, momentarily forgotting about the nearby warren, "is this sort of cold, white powdery stuff that falls from the sky like rain. It'll cover the wilderness, mostly just a few inches but sometimes up to a few feet. I bet you'll like it." Her lips twitched. "It'll help you camouflage a bit better. Whereas I thrive in the fall," Wildfire quipped.

Then movement in the corner of her eye caused her to whip her head sharply to the side. There wasn't a whole lot of conscious thought; she struck in one fluid motion. But the rabbit disappeared back into the hole from which it had emerged in a flash of soft cottontail. Wildfire's paws thumped on either side of the hole and she thrust her snout in for good measure, then shook her head and retreated, giving Freyja a sportive glance.