Redtail Rise III

her eyes follow the jagged curve of the mountain. you know bear? she asks, thinking of her very first foray up into the peaks. wonders if he holds the same fanaticism for something, anything, that her father does. watches him spit, eyes curious, before tearing back into the hare.

it stains her entire muzzle a deep crimson, even the lighter, cream-tinged bits along the underside of her chin, her throat. she barely chews enough to swallow, pausing only to snap a delicate rib to bits between her teeth.

the wolves are still sated from their hunt in recent days, but hares will not do for long. they need real meat if they are to make it through the winter, much less take on Nyra.

she must find and follow the herd. perhaps she will take this man with her.