Emberflame Ridge They say before you start a war, you better know what you're fighting for

Dead leaves creaked and cracked beneath her feet. But wasn't it for the revealing noise she was making she would have been invisible. Her coat of fire blended perfectly with the autumn scenery, reds, oranges, browns and tans hiding her as though she'd been designed for it. But the truth was that Vixen didn't know how to behave so far from shore, and the moves she made, poorly calculated, were betraying her position.

That was until she gave up. She realized she was driving the prey away and dropped herself to the autumn-carpeted floor, moving but her breathing chest and allowing the trees to coat her with more fallen leaves.

It was later rather than sooner that her plan proved fruitful. She had passed out, lost the track of time, but she opened her eyes at the sound of an approaching something. Her face had been covered by leaves that blocked her line of sight, but she didn't dare move until the sound grew closer, close enough for Vixen to feel it's warmth on her face. And WHAM! She jumped out of cover, taking hold of the closest thing to her mouth, which turned out to be no less than the ashen heel of a wolf.