Whitefish River I can feel the touch from another world

The older mountain wolf brushed by her with a conspicuous nudge that Saena understood to mean "wait", or something like that. She'd seen enough hunts in action, and participated in a couple. Luckily, she knew an ambush when she saw one, so she nodded subtly and remained crouched in the sparse cover of a twiggy once-bush. Somnia moved quietly away, leaving the juvenile to watch her nearly perfect stalking form with a mixture of envy and admiration. She would one day be as good at sneaking, she knew, but to see it in front of her was truly marvelous.

Her attention returned to the doe, who seemed none the wiser that it was being hunted aside from a twitch of its cone-like ears. Saena let out a slow breath, and through the haze of warm mist that unfurled she spotted Somnia, ready in position. She didn't need any visual cues; there was a nearly telepathic link between hunting wolves, the subtleties of their body language more than enough to speak a thousand words at once, that she knew exactly when to strike.

She cut through her twiggy bush like an arrow, straight and unwavering. The doe must have sensed her movement before it began, for by the time her paws hit the ground on the other side, it was already turning and readying itself to bound. Things seemed to happen in slow motion for Saena, the snow kicked up in beautiful arcs beneath their feet seeming to take hours to fall back to earth, but it took less than a heart beat. Her eyes lifted to see if Somnia had reacted to this millisecond explosion of action.

But then her focus went back to the hunt and she pounded after the fleeing doe, driving it in her partner's direction and waiting for the moment it would stumble in the thick snow.