Wapun Meadow tiptoe

Irene’s graceful steps faltered as the last traces of the rabbit’s scent faded into the snow, the small thrill of the hunt slipping away with it. She frowned, her ears flicking back in slight irritation. The chase had been so close, and yet, the rabbit had outsmarted her, vanishing into the distance.

With a quiet sigh, she stood still for a moment, gathering herself. Her vivacious emerald eyes swept the meadow, scanning for anything else that might catch her interest. The loss stung, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she lifted her head, trying to regain the composure that she was so often known for—like a queen regaining her throne after a brief moment of uncertainty.

It was then that the scent of another wolf drifted to her, sharper than before. Irene's posture stiffened, and for a brief instant, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her features, though it was quickly hidden beneath a calm exterior. She turned toward the hill where the other wolf stood, watching her. Her tail swished slightly, betraying a trace of unease, but she pushed it down, replacing it with her usual, cool demeanor.

I thought I was alone she thought to herself, masking the insecurity that crept up as the presence of the other female lingered in the air.

Instead of approaching right away, she allowed herself a moment to compose her thoughts. She needed to remember why she walked the earth with the air of boisterous confidence she always projected. It was part of who she was, even if it was sometimes hard to uphold.

Taking a deep breath, Irene set her sights back on the stranger, her eyes softening ever so slightly. She had no need to make a grand entrance, not this time. Her mask, as fragile as it sometimes felt, was still in place as she took a step forward, hoping the other wolf would make the first move.