Dawnlark Plains LXXIII

She had hunted with her man many times. Her eyes lingered upon her young daughter and even younger cubs that followed after her, tail swaying between her hocks and cheeks still wet from Mountain Boulders greeting. No doubt his own whiskers were as well for the way in which she matched him, and it was with this thought she looked back to him with bright eyes.

This hunt would be good. She greeted her pack mates with happy whuffs and a swaying tail. New Snow sniffed at them all, and allowed them the space to do the same. All among them smelled hearty and hale, which reinforced her earlier thought.

She observed with the hunt lead. She licked her chops as New Snow watched as he made his choice. And as he broke into a run, she was quick to follow. It would be numbers that would force the herd to motion, and New Snow watched the group become further unsettled. One younger than the rest was the first to bolt, and New Snow could smell the panic among its fellows as others then followed. 

Once they closed in, New Snow would begin the long and enduring work of the chase. This, though, was another thing she was made for! New Snow watched with sharp eyes the movements of the fleeing herd, knowing as they closed in she would need to be cognizant of heavier bodies and sharp hooves.