Flycatcher Downs vorarephobia

The hooded woman stalked the deer as well- albeit from the other side of the herd, and from such a distance that she did not spot the other wolf. She remained low, close to the ground where new green shoots began to spring up amid the dying yellow. Through tattered brush she watched- counting the animals with hungry eyes.

She intended only to take stock of them for now- take note of each individual, guess which does might be pregnant and soon to drop a fawn, and suss out any weaknesses. 

She thought the herd might have caught her scent- it would explain their nervousness. It was only when she spotted the injured young buck that she realized perhaps that they’d not scented her at all. Perhaps they merely feared the inevitable.