Wapun Meadow tiptoe

Irene padded through the underbrush, her ears flicking at every sound, her nose working overtime to catch the faintest trace of her prey. She wasn’t a terrible hunter, per se—just… not very good. Her real skill lay in tracking, in reading the signs left behind. But that didn’t stop her from pretending she was a master at the hunt. 

The thrill of the chase was something Irene couldn’t resist, even though she was aware she was more skilled at following the scent trails than actually catching the prize. She lifted her nose to the air, sniffing out the faint scent of a rabbit—a perfect target for today. Her heart raced with excitement, but doubt quickly crept in. You can do this. You look the part, at least, she told herself, trying to muster the confidence she so often wore like armor.

She crouched low, the familiar twinge of nerves stirring in her chest as she stalked forward, watching the patch of thicket where the rabbit had last been. Her movements were swift, but her steps faltered when she thought she might have startled it. 

Easy now... Don’t mess this up... she murmured to herself, her voice barely more than a breath. Her tail twitched with a nervous energy, betraying the confidence she tried to project.

The rabbit was still nearby, and Irene moved in—only to watch it dart out of her reach, faster than she anticipated. She let out a soft, frustrated growl, her pride taking the hit. So much for being the great hunter, she thought bitterly, though she quickly smoothed over the disappointment with a forced smile. Well, I’ll get you next time, she said aloud, trying to sound more assured than she felt. She paused for a moment, inhaling the scents around her, and then set off once more, determined to track the creature down—even if it meant another long day of failed attempts.

Scent-marking in the meadow and claiming it as additional hunting grounds was a past time for the Regina and her husband. She’d been busy scouting in recent days, keeping an eye on the movements of the caribou hunters settled to the East of their home, noting the tracks of Akavir and a wolf from Kvarsheim as they patrolled the neighbouring areas. The last flurry of activity, she guessed, before they all settled down a bit for the winter.

So she returned to her old habits, and meandered through the meadow, sniffing about to see who had ventured through, occasionally squatting to leave a yellow stain in the snow, a marking so that wanderers might know that the meadow was watched. 

Over a knoll a rabbit skittered, and Ameline crouched to watch it flee. She wondered if perhaps Ancelin was out hunting- only to test the breeze and pick up on the scent of an unfamiliar female wolf. With a huff, she shook some tension out of her shoulders- this wasn’t technically their territory, after all- and started up the hill, pausing as she crested the top to scan the meadow and land her surprised gaze upon a bronze and gold-gilded woman, graceful and poised, tracking along the tracks the rabbit had left behind. The mere prettiness of her looks made Ameline’s cheeks burn with envy.

Irene’s graceful steps faltered as the last traces of the rabbit’s scent faded into the snow, the small thrill of the hunt slipping away with it. She frowned, her ears flicking back in slight irritation. The chase had been so close, and yet, the rabbit had outsmarted her, vanishing into the distance.

With a quiet sigh, she stood still for a moment, gathering herself. Her vivacious emerald eyes swept the meadow, scanning for anything else that might catch her interest. The loss stung, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she lifted her head, trying to regain the composure that she was so often known for—like a queen regaining her throne after a brief moment of uncertainty.

It was then that the scent of another wolf drifted to her, sharper than before. Irene's posture stiffened, and for a brief instant, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her features, though it was quickly hidden beneath a calm exterior. She turned toward the hill where the other wolf stood, watching her. Her tail swished slightly, betraying a trace of unease, but she pushed it down, replacing it with her usual, cool demeanor.

I thought I was alone she thought to herself, masking the insecurity that crept up as the presence of the other female lingered in the air.

Instead of approaching right away, she allowed herself a moment to compose her thoughts. She needed to remember why she walked the earth with the air of boisterous confidence she always projected. It was part of who she was, even if it was sometimes hard to uphold.

Taking a deep breath, Irene set her sights back on the stranger, her eyes softening ever so slightly. She had no need to make a grand entrance, not this time. Her mask, as fragile as it sometimes felt, was still in place as she took a step forward, hoping the other wolf would make the first move.