Redhawk Caldera Peach or plum

The girl was frustrated when her prey wasn't as gamely as she wished — but of course, she knew that his cry meant that she had to stop. She even felt a little bad that he wasn't having fun, and sighed to herself to release some of the tense emotion that balled in her chest: guilt for hurting him, anxiety that he might tell on her, anger that he'd put an end to her fun.

She slid back to the ground, belly low despite the unfettered aggression she'd displayed. She was not a domineering wolf — just one with a hair trigger prey drive.

"Let's hunt," she urged, breathless still from the run and the tussle. She wanted to distract him quickly from telling, so she forced the words out. "Or pick flowers," she added, in case hunting reminded her beloved brother of having been hunted by her moments before.