Ravensblood Forest halichoerus

sobeille’s ears cupped forward, straining to parse from the varied sounds of the wildwood an answer.

none came save the rush of quieting snow.

she nosed the ground where the tracks lead deeper into the pines. the stranger was well out of view; not even the engulfing snap of her maligator jaws was detected.

sobeille took one leap, and then another — bouncing clumsily from track to track. all together, she was much too short to wade with ease — but this was a game and she the pursuer. i ‘eard some’ting. sobeille announced to the snow laden world, peering after the tracks that wound away. where you be?