Verdant Basin my feet shall run because of you

The deer was as unaware of its onlookers as Miyax was to the growing collection of wolves around her. She was so focused upon the chance to give chase, to eat, that the signals upon the wind and sounds drifting to her sharp ears went ignored.

Miyax was a wolf of the musk ox. Her father had imparted his knowledge of them to his children, and so too would Miyax, if she ever were to become a leader. She did not know what to do when she sighted the deer — as said before, it was no elk of which she was at least familiar, and most assuredly it was no musk ox.

She roused herself from her stupor and began to creep ever closer. Her steps were swift and fluid, and she picked her way through the mess of trees and grasses until she was out in the open, staring in the direction of the deer. The thought of playing a wolf trick on this creature had appealed to her; and her tail whisked, her ears fell back upon her head instead of remaining tall and alert, indicating her sudden lack of interest in the hunt.

Next she turned her head. Every sense was aligned with keeping tabs on the deer, but to the unsuspecting prey, she was a distracted wolf without the means of pursuing such a goal — thus the deer felt safe. It ducked its own head when it spotted the pale figure of the she-wolf, and it continued to graze.

Yet when Miyax turned to feign her indifference, she saw something. A flash of an eye in the shadows of the trees. A figure obscured. The fur of her scruff began to electrify with nervous energy. She looked around carefully for more signals, and that was when she tapped in to the wind with her nose - discovering the many scents surrounding her. She was not as alone as she thought; but were they friend, or foe?