Sky Mesa on the wing

He followed, and more than that, he understood. The plan came together before her eyes.

She waited until he had settled into position. Merel nodded to him—one last signal. Then, she leapt forward. The pronghorn bolted.

Merel ran between the doe and the herd, further isolating it from its perceived safety. It veered away from her. In its panic to get away from the wolf chasing it, it hadn’t yet seen the second wolf lying in wait.

Now! she thought.