Jade Fern Grove The loneliest people are the kindest

Her quarry stopped and Haunt stilled, yellow eyes peering at him through a screen of brush. She watched as he plopped onto his hindquarters and contorted in an effort to scratch his own armpit. Air puffed from her nostrils as she observed him then bend the other way and simultaneously nibble at his rump. When he froze, she tensed.

A moment later, he swept back onto his feet and resumed his casual stroll. Haunt rolled forward too, deciding now was the moment to strike. He'd sensed something, only to deem it a false alarm, leaving him at his most vulnerable. She sprang, noiseless save for the gentle rustle of foliage, her forelegs outstretched to grasp at his backside.