Chimera Fields Wasting Time on Love That Wasn't Real

There had been a long window of observation for Wicken to determine the motives of the fellow canid, and they remained unsure at the mouth of the hollow. It left much to be desired when trying to gauge another, but the young male had little choice. They were not inclined to waltz up and receive a toothy introduction in lieu of a silent acknowledgement. The pale wolf appeared to be an astute observer herself, and he was appreciative of the shrubbery mostly shielding his form from any prying eyes. 

The sudden burst of noise immediately drew an amber gaze back to the other with widened eyes. At first, Wicken was concerned that he might be on the receiving end of an outburst, but the scene before him was quickly determined to be comical. The pale wolf had turned into something akin to a bucking bronc. The show was beyond entertaining to them, but he would not have been surprised if it sent another running for the hills. A snort escaped them before it could be stifled, but the lack of sound within the den was proof that the other, strange as they were, was on to something. 

Wicken rose to their feet, and their position was given away by tall shoulder blades over the flowering plants. The burrows silence erupted into mania as several jack rabbits surged forth. He had been prepared initially, but the antics of the pale one sent him reeling as he grappled for any and all of the little forms at the same time. The young male missed the vast majority that poured out. In the chaos, he managed to snag a confused one by the hind end, and the kill was swift in a blur of dust surrounded by the brightest blooms.

The warm carcass was dropped from his jaws, and they took the opportunity to peer over the flowers with yellow eyes. A suspicious gaze resting on the helpful stranger. Why? A silvery voice spoke.