Hoshor Plains gift vid första ögonkastet

The stranger’s head whipped in her direction, her eyes so wide Towhee could tell they were gray even from a distance. Adept as she was at reading body language, the Redhawk immediately ground to a halt. Her hackles prickled, sensing something amiss only seconds before a feline shape dropped from a cluster of trees ahead and to the right.

She inhaled sharply, rocking back on her heels before springing forward and pivoting in a single movement. Towhee would’ve liked to say it was smooth, but it wasn’t. She was old, slow and stiff. One of her hind feet slipped and she almost fell onto her hip, which would’ve surely broken.

She avoided falling by digging her forepaws into the frosty loam, shooting a panicked glance over her shoulder. All she needed to do was outrun the other she-wolf and she would likely escape with her life, though Towhee’s chaotic morality decided to express itself just then.

She intended to yell some variation of “fuck” and “run,” or maybe “fucking run,” but what came out of her mouth was an emphatic, FUN!!!