Phoenix Maplewood and with that timber, burn a hundred fires

twilight had come and gone, and the maplewood was alive with sound; among them lurked the huntress, thin and weary and resolute. there lay the trail of a hare here; along with the lurking scent of wolf that had her hackles prickle. she'd have sought him out if she'd been more possessive over the wood, had she the strength and capacity to do so.

as it stood, the pack was weakening; the addition of two new members bolstered them, yet not quickly enough. the huntress huffed as the trail veered into a thick patch of bracken and thorns, slipping around the thickest of it. she was determined not to let the scent go just yet, and a flicker of interest had her pause as she realized the scent did not continue on the other side of the undergrowth. another slow circle confirmed this, and she lapped around the bush once more, hearing the barest of scrabblings within. 

carefully, slowly, she poked her muzzle through the safest part of the tangle, hunger easily awoken. a soft step forward and then burning pain, exploding across her rear haunch instantly and suddenly. again, the scent of metallic blood like an explosion in the soft night air, almost tangible. the rabbit fled, a violent blur of motion, and the huntress crumpled as she whirled, vertigo booming behind her skull.