The Heartwood this little bluebird came looking for you.

Her heart was pounding, even after she had broken the spell of their moment. She searched his face, praying he didn't throw his paws up, officially deem her too weird and walk out on her. She began to settle when the look of surprise left him and he smiled. Liffey took it as a sign that he forgave her little faux pas. But now she found herself in an all new predicament.

What kind of wolf admitted to being a terrible hunter to their new alpha? Her parents had always attempted to stress upon her that it was imperative for everyone of their species to be at least decent at the skill. Liffey had never paid much attention to that. It had never seemed particularly important before when her alphas were her parents and they obviously would never throw her out for her uselessness. But this was something entirely different... And it probably would have been better for her to keep it to herself, practice on her own and try to improve before Rannoch found out how very flawed she was at it.

Oh well.

"That would probably be a good idea," she admitted, wincing slightly from her embarrassment, "But I have to warn you, I'm seriously... all kinds of terrible. Like, impressively terrible. My brother's idea of me helping him with a hunt was to send me into the den to hide until at least an hour after it was all over. And sometimes, I still screwed it up." Liffey wanted to be kidding, but truth be told, how could she be blamed that the rabbit had wandered innocently up to her in the den and startled its own damn self before Lagan could give chase? "It's only fair that you know ahead of time," she added sagely, biting her lip.