Felltree Marsh red duck

she took in the scene with a second’s notice. yura fleeing. a man dogging after with his steps rounded in predatory purpose.

a man!

fury drove her in hot steps after him, a chilling sensation at the gradual realization that she knew this man —

he lept over a log of alder and she was the furious shadow flung after him, the shriek escaping yura’s mouth giving her a burst of adrenaline that blinded her senses, routing a primal imperative within her to maul, to kill, to disintegrate the threat before it did the same to her.

sobeille threw herself at his blackened backside, hard shoulder aimed to sweep his hind end out from under him. if she learned anything from killing caribou it was the artful severance of the interlocking tendons in their limbs.

cut out their heels and they cannot run; sobeille’s teeth sought justice among the thin skin along his hocks.