The Bracken Woods Superstition

Their audacity was another reason for the lynx to dislike canines. There was always reason to suspect they were never on their own, either- they lived in brainwashed communes and resorted to hostility senselessly. 

The hiss had been a warning, though hyssop was no match for a wolf in a fight. She’d caught the hare fair and square and felt entitled to it. The wolf didn’t look starving to her, so for it to challenge her for her meal was for no reason other than to be a bully. 

She crouched and snatched her kill the moment the wolf lifted its front paw to advance. She whirled and sprang across the stream with one bound, putting more distance between them. She didn’t want to waste energy running away if she didn’t have to. With an obstinate flick of her short, striped tail she glared over her shoulder at the wolf, huffing a short exhale of breath as though to say leave me alone! 

She’d measure its reaction, and retreat further if necessary. She had several cards up her sleeve still. A cat was never without its tricks.