Panther Park there's a humming in the restless summer air

early morning. cool, clear; a few hours post-rainshower. maybe a wild @Donovan Azura?

nares flare, drawing in petrichor and earth. birdsong erupts sporadically from the canopy, sharp melodies cutting through the dreary morning silence. sunlight dapples the earth, and in one corner of the glade is tugged away and bound together to form a wolf. it blinks, auds shifting atop a blazing crown. a stiff movement of its muzzle seeking to smooth down an errant tuft of fur, before once more it stares forward, waiting. 

and there they come. it is a small herd, no more than four individuals. but two bear fawns, young and new and liable to mistakes. that familiar thrill echoes down her spine; and the huntress tenses and then unfurls, rising with languid grace. she becomes a roving ray of light, as inconsequential as a mote of dust as she drifts after the herd. always out of sight, slipping after on the boundaries of their awareness. 

to hunt alone required more tact, more care, than to do so as a group. the margin of error allowed was extraordinarily thin, and so the sun-kisses followed, a burning shadow, and waited for the right set of circumstances to unfold.