Duck Lake the long fall

uktark caught the flick of her tail without breaking stride. understood.
he did not look back. a quiet huff left him—acknowledgement, nothing more—and then he peeled off from her line, widening his path through the snow. heavy on purpose now. careless on purpose.
he snapped a twig beneath his paw. let his weight show. let the birds feel him coming.
their heads lifted. bodies tensed.
uktark moved again, angling wide, drawing eyes and nerves toward him, jaws clacking once as he surged just enough to scatter attention.
the opening was hers.
he trusted her to take it.