Jade Fern Grove sail

Her coal tinted paws silently move her form across the seemly endless amount of dead grass and fallen autumn leaves that litter the ground beneath her. She’d just come from a fitful and rather arduous hunt; though not so much arduous as it was tedious. 

    She’d gotten out of it with a medium sized rabbit, which is good enough for her considering the loss of food due to the upcoming winter. The only way she was able to find it was squeezing into the rabbits own home just as a fox would do. Amita has always thought of her size as a curse but today it seemed to be a blessing.

    So she walks–no real destination in mind–right along the tree line of this oddly beautiful forest. The light wind blows against her whiskers and bristles the hair of her ears. Her full tail swishes back and forth when the wind brings Amita a different type of scent; the scent of something alive and certainly wolf like. The scent makes her large ears prick up to listen and she drops the rabbit to get a good whiff of where it reins from. The she-wolf assumes it’s coming from a couple hundred feet in front of her so she grabs her rabbit in her jaws and attempts to trot in an arc, guiding herself further into the tree line as to not run directly into them but it seems like they’re a lot closer then she anticipates.

     The wolf she sees is big, especially compared to her. Though she is confident in her ability to escape if things were to go south, she still feels a shiver run through her spine at the looks of them. The raven haired wolf seems young still but that just makes it so much worse. Knowing they’ll grow to be a hulking beast for sure. The mask on his face seems almost skull like and it intrigues her as to how he got those markings.

    Lost in her own thoughts she hears a cracking sounds and realizes that she’s stepped on a stick. How cliché. She thinks and she winces at the sound. She’s sure they’ve heard her now.