Bramblepoint Sunblind

All it would have taken was a shift in the wind for the figure hidden in the ferns to be revealed by fragrance alone.

As it was, luck favored the shy wolf. Foxfur did not smell or hear him. The warrior was so occupied with the prickle of brambles against his flesh that he would have likely allowed a wounded deer to sneak past him. Once through, the masked wolf breathed heavily through his nares and shook the debris from his fur.

Brown eyes searched the area with more scrutiny. Foxfur had the feeling of someone being watched.