Whitefish River Out of the dark

Unfortunately, not all wolves out there were kind or soft hearted. Tzila was one of them. She believed herself to be a hardened survivor. Selfish, thankless. A woman who looked out only for herself. Given the choice, she would save her own hide first, instead of another poor saps. 

Keeping her head low, nose down, her eyes flicked up. Tracking the movement of the smaller female, who had moved downstream. Perfect. Tzila waited until she was just far enough away, positioned right at the edge of the water. Silently she swept up beside her, hovering dangerously close. Close enough that the warmth of her breath could be felt against the outer hairs of her nape. 

Tzila withheld any signs of hostility. She'd let this play out just a wee bit longer. "I never was the best fisher. No matter how hard I practiced." A lie. With a coastline as part of her backyard during her puppy days, she had had ample time to refine her fishing skills. "You though...you look like you've done quite well already." She said, referring to the rabbit she had caught, which Tzila so coveted.