Shadewood dusk speaks

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her body did not sway nor flinch under his eye. she accepted his words as she accepted the weight of the task—not as burden, but as belonging. her place, for now, was this.
the spring dirt was soft beneath her paws as she turned. new grass, damp with melt and green with the stubbornness of life. her claws bit into it as she kicked off, lean form cutting through the low brush with purpose.
no dramatics. no display.
the scent of the wounded animal still clung to the wind, a thread she could follow—she would follow.
kusax̱asaa did not need to see her gratitude to know it stirred beneath her ribs.
and sivaak—
yes. she would listen.
but for now, she would hunt.
silent. swift. his.