Overture Downs Cassiopeia

while this girl had not looked much like a child upon first glance, the very second she started to move it was as if wren intrinsically understood her own seniority. she stiffens as the girl approaches in a wriggling crouch, nose wrinkled and tail slowing to a stiff flag. wren was no mother, nor this girl's boss, and she had certainly never been an expert in interpreting body language. she is all but clueless.
neither of them speak until the girl peeps: you want to go hunting?
do you know how to hunt? she teases, taking a few steps back in an effort to create space between them. i'm not a good teacher.