Firefly Glen Take you like a drug;

Haunting gaze flicked back when the rabbit fell. She watched him nudge the kill toward her. A sharp breath was drawn in. Her eyes narrowed, blades set on whetstone. A wolf that could give was a well-fed one—a comfortable one. She wielded a glacier's pride but it was suspicion that held her back like the raptor that had gripped her shoulders. 

The eye contact was maintained, even when it made her flesh warm that cool, autumnal night. 

If need be, she said. Lack of faith lowered her voice. 

Was this a test?