Red watched silently as her pupil went sniffing around the meadow. She was tempted to give more advice as Kipling went along, but she didn’t want to break the other’s concentration or scare off any rabbits that might be around. Besides, the less time she spent talking, the better. Soon enough, the spice-colored wolf lifted her tail, which was good because it was the only part of her body that Red could see in the tall grass. She understood the meaning immediately, and slowly came forward, in case the rabbit — or rabbits — were close by.
She bent her head down to sniff at the trail and nodded once in approval. Good,
she said, and that intended to be all the praise she gave. She hoped it was enough. It might be in a hole. If it is, you may have to scare it out, or give that one up and go for another one. Or it could be hiding in the grass nearby. Stay on the scent and see if you can figure out where it is before you do anything. If you find it and it starts running away, give chase immediately. Got it?
She looked at Kipling, waiting for the wolf’s approval of her words. She honestly wasn’t very good at teaching others how to hunt, probably considering she thought of all hunting as instinctual and couldn’t understand why this female had such a hard time with it. She shrugged inwardly. If the wolf had survived this long already, it meant she must have been doing something right.