The Bracken Woods Superstition

Zahir had been spotted, as witnessed by the lynx's hiss. She didn't move at first, uncertain of what she wanted to do here. She had plenty of food, thanks to Reyson, and didn't feel like challenging the cat for a half-eaten hare. Even so, she felt her tail lifting, and a loud, snarling bark rent itself from her maw. She wanted to get her blood pumping. The wolf advanced on the lynx, lips curling back over long fangs.