Porcupine Ridge And someday

Animals who ran were killed. She had been the wolf to a rabbit and heard the crackle of bone. Where was the line when the hunter became the hunted? Pulled up, awkwardly following the line of Muskrat's fast-moving feet while Nutu's back legs struggled with coordination. Clumsy, not good enough yet, not quick enough yet. Strong enough to kick and what good were they when they couldn't move right yet? She'd learn. "I will not run down to be run down." She would fight if she could not go up. A promise, and it would not turn into an empty one, no matter how much it rattled her nerves. In a good way? It felt good.

She'd never felt this good.

Qatiy! Qatiy!

Up! The mountain girl stood straight and soon fell into a sprint to follow. It was not a real hunt, but it raced the heart like it could've been. Out of breath already because she had lost it in laughter, but already she started to pace that same breath and truly breathe.

Sprinting, jumping over the slope by scratching up the dirt and stumbling to the top. Chasing!

Breathy, quiet-- elated, "I'll get you."