Phoenix Maplewood true like ice, true like fire

Rolled for success!

She did not watch Mountain Boulder. She watched the grasses, though also listened. Mountain Boulder moved, quiet himself for all of his size... but she watched as the hare erupted, and bolted away. Sunday had hoped to be closer, knowing the swiftness of the hare. Now it would be more of a game, and a test of endurance. Food in The Far North had always been hard to come by; hare was prey she was used to. But she had always worked together with her family.

Now, to learn to work together with her man.

This too was an ancient language, inherent in their kind; Sunday bolted after it, spry and swift. It had the head start, but Sunday would be quick to gain on it. Sunday kept in a straight line, though began to move left as she started to close in—a cue for Mountain Boulder to drift right, should the hare abruptly change its direction. She in one path, he another, but still the hare had another route to go that Sunday prepared for. It may not be a quick hunt, but it was one that already made her blood sing. She drove on, determined to succeed.