Redtail Rise blue halite

Moon Runner tracked Ptarmigan. Hunting fowl had quickly become her favorite pastime. There was an art to it that was difficult to master and it required great stealth and cunning to successfully set and kill a nervous, upland bird.

She tasted the wind as it shifted but was surprised to find a new scent. A wolf? Moon Runner loped curiously towards him (for the smell was decidedly male) until she spotted the stranger just beyond their borders.

We have a lot to protect, the spirit reminded itself. Mother carried the next generation. Perhaps, soon, Blood Spot and Wealda would too. However, Moon Runner was no Bjern, and so she eyed the vagrant with curiosity. He looked young and not very formidable. Not like Father or Old Fang [Tulimaq], at least.

A chuff. A snort. The teenager made her presence known as she approached him. Her tail was held high over her back, but it was not rigid. Rather, it swayed around like a slinky to convey the lack of tension in her body. She was interested in him... but Moon Runner did not want to be misconstrued as easygoing.