Deepwood Weald Check the cupboard for your daddy's gun

The scent trail did have an end, she came to find. Her ears pricked and she paused as she observed where she had arrived to. Even in respite, the male before her was large—perhaps one of the largest she had seen. He blended well with the colossal tree behind him, but even his girth seemed to challenge it. Her eyes fell to the thing he had torn asunder. More if it remained than had been devoured, it appeared. 

One ear flicked as she regarded him. Her interest was ample, and she took a proud step toward him, lifting her head with confidence she had been born with and confidence she had earned from ample experience (more than most would have at her age, truly) as she challenged, I'll spar you for it, her ears cupped to hear his response, wondering how he would take it. But she felt there was much to learn from this behemoth beneath the ancient tree, and Hydra found she learned more by doing than anything else.