Whitefish River I can feel the touch from another world

Somnia responded to each and every thing Saena had said, a trait that the girl found pleasant for once. It meant that the other wolf was attentive. She couldn't allow herself to show any admiration for the qualities of a rival wolf, or in her world, an enemy, but there was a subtle appreciation there for Somnia's refinement. Unlike many of the wolves of her home lately, Somnia also seemed to view her as an equal rather than just a kid, which Saena met with the respectful waving of her tail at ease.

"Sounds good," she accepted, keeping it short and sweet to contrast Somnia's previous loquaciousness. Nothing else was worth commenting on—Blue Willow's status was a matter for the pack, just as any pregnant wolf's status was the business of their peers only. The mountain lion was of no consequence, and while Saena would have liked to say she was born in a forest as well, the conversation had moved past that point.

"I'm not one yet," she said quietly as she invited the other to walk with her until they found something, "never really wanted to be, actually, but it's best for my pack and... I'm finding I like it more the more I do it. I never really got it as a kid. My dad was a Gamekeeper, and my sister, and they were great at it, but... they turned traitor, so I've been teaching myself." She dared to think herself good at it as well. Her successes so far outweighed her failures. Little did Saena know that hunting was prime in the winter, for while prey was harder to come by, the wolves had the advantage of the snow when it did appear, an advantage that only snowshoe hares and small wild cats could also boast of.