Redtail Rise LXVII

His attempt at climbing the rise was abruptly cut short by the intrusion of a hare; it had moved erratically, perhaps hoping that its arrhythmic movements would further camoflague it. The pursuit had been just as inevitable as it was graceless -- a mad, point-blank dash without much strategy -- but a misstep had sent him sprawling down the slope. He scraped his paws against the rock as he fought to regain his balance.

The fall had not been very steep, nor from such a great height, but it left him shaken. It reminded him that there was yet room for calibration, to become accustomed to the Rise's topology, and most importantly, to strip away the layers of comfortable assumption. Everything required a measure of caution.

Gavrel approached the grey man, acutely aware of his own bruised shoulder. For a moment he openly wondered how a such a large wolf -- a large anything -- could move with such ease.