Kintla Flatlands The fall of the dream machine

Woo, I'm glad you replied. I'm so itchy to write! Also, I made a rather large assumption toward the end, so slap me if I need to tweak it. :)

She came across a fresh scent: raccoon. Koontz paused, deliberating, then decided to move on and try to find some other game. If she didn't find anything else, she might return and try tracking the coon. For now, she didn't feel such prey was worth the risk. She was no expert—yet, at least—and she didn't want to start her hunting career by getting injured.

A few moments later, she discovered another scent and she stopped again, head lifting and ears pricking. She turned, her pale eyes scanning the flatlands, and spotted a shape moving in the distance. She began to lope toward it. As she neared the figure, another one emerged into her field of vision. Koontz laughed lightly to herself, then swung wide around the raccoon. She then continued her approach, realizing as she did so that the wolf must be hunting it.

She didn't want to interrupt, but when she drew near the stranger and saw how youthful he looked, she couldn't help herself. "Hey there," she called, sotto voce. "Are you hunting that raccoon? Want some help?" Maybe they could tackle it easily between the two of them. Though that wouldn't leave much meat for Koontz to take home, at least it would give her some experience and at least a small trophy for her efforts.

As she crept even closer to the other wolf, still awaiting his response, Koontz suddenly drew up short and gaped at him. "Hamied?"