Cassiopeia's View [M]anipulate the strings to get a better view

The half-hearted snarl and the sound of claws scraping at the stone beneath for traction behind her was like music to her ears. This was fun. The most she had in quite some time. She whooped as she ran from the trailing hunter, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be acting like prey.

She decided then, rather quickly but not out of the norm for the coyote, that she liked the danger—and the things she liked tended to become hers. He would be hers to claim; it was her way, after all. Whether he intended to reciprocate was his own business and it bothered her none which way he chose.

She skidded to turn and face him, her back arched and lips pulled in a feral open smile, tail flicking. The intent was to look menacing, challenging, but this was part of the game; she knew that once he came upon her she would become pliable, a little plaything for the giant. Her eye said as much.

It was only right.