The Bracken Woods Superstition

Zahir snickered as the lynx got up and bounded across the stream, taking its kill with it. She followed it across the water, moving at an easy lope but yearning to pick up speed. She wanted to chase, to run this creature back from whence it came. Another snarl and Zahir's hackles rose, and she rushed the lynx, teeth snapping. For Zahir, it was play.