Wapun Meadow An owl in the closet

Mirroring Simatra's enthusiastic smile, the grey pixie followed behind her away from the stream and into the wood. Her blood seemed to pump faster already, as it always did with the prospect of a hunt at hand. A hunt, of course,  that did not involve fish. 

Being unfamiliar with this territory, Israel put ever ounce of her trust within the gold-furred woman, and her trust was not misplaced. Soon the scent of deer was strong in the air, and Israel slowed her pace from a smooth lope to a fast walk. Ahead of them was the herd, small, with only three in their numbers.

It was here that she halted, cobalt eyes searching Simatra for an indication of what to do next. She could not help but notice that one of the two does walked with a blatant limp, and the delicious smell of its blood perfumed the air. Israel had every reason to believe that her partner detected this detail,as well. If they could separate the lame animal from its fellows, victory would be theirs.