Wild Berry Meadow or in our eyes, every time they meet

game was present, but most of the scents were stale. astara coursed the scent of a hare in half-interest for some time before something far more compelling caught her interest.

another predator, like her.

at first, the blackbird remained still -- half-hidden by a screen of dogwood. the longer she watched, the more she realized that it was not just the meadow that was familiar -- he was familiar too...

the blackbird made no motion to move, but sat in wait like a serpent coiled in shadow.