wrapped in piano strings

            The trees rise like dark sentinels high above the forest floor, looming over her as she slips through the shadows of the great woodland. For most, it would be intimidating to be alone; not even the early light of dawn can break through the latticework of branches and foliage. Morning dew kisses her nose as she roots around in the heavy undergrowth, searching for some unsuspecting prey. She freezes suddenly, one paw lifted, as she catches the scent of a vole.
            Creeping forward with a feline grace, she barely breathes before springing forward, powerful jaws snapping shut with a loud click. The vole makes a panicked sound and she gives chase, diving into the decomposing leaves and nettles after it. She digs and scrapes at the earth, dragging away big clumps of damp moss only to reveal a tiny little hole. The vole is gone.
            She sighs and bends to wipe her muzzle against her leg, clearing it of debris. Need to be faster, Carolina.

Paranoia sank its talons into Jinx's brain once more as, sweeping through the tangle of lowland conifers, she contemplated the state of her pack. None of the assembled had spoken up against her law, yet she anticipated resistance where there truly was none. Her husband ruled alongside her now, in a slightly less demanding capacity, and she could rest easy knowing the pack would thrive with the pair of them at its head, but still she feared an uprising of those who did not understand what it was to be a wolf.

She weaved through the trees on high alert with an aggressive and dominant perpetual stance. Her tail was flung high over her hind and her ears pointed directly forward. Jinx's face was drawn into the grim visage of a woman scorned, although there had been no scorning... At least, there hadn't been until she came upon the scent trail of a decidedly unfamiliar wolf.

It was paranoia that made her give chase, for although Carolina was nowhere near Silvertip Mountain, the Alpha took it upon herself to enforce her claim even here. Some called it insecurity, and at its root that's what it was, but to her it was merely strength. She began prowling along the trail in pursuit of the wolf who had invaded her favourite haunt, fully intending to take out some of her pent up frustration on the poor soul.

           The she-wolf shakes out her pelt and continues onward. Though her ears are forward, and nose lowered to sift through scent trails, she does not move with any real determination. Her stomach gnaws at her innards; a constant reminder that she is, in fact, lacking without a partner. It is not a pill so easily swallowed.
            For the barest few seconds, a creeping feeling crawls slowly up her spine, pricking the soft spaces between her vertibrae. She lifts her head and swivels her ears back, only to follow through with a narrow-eyed glance over her dusty shoulder. Carolina scans the trees, but sees nothing.
           With an irritated huff, she trots on in the same steadfast pace as before. The old, creaking woods cannot startle her so easily.

Caroline's failure to catch the vole went uncatalogued by any but herself, for Jinx had yet to catch up with the intruding bitch. The scent she trailed at her brisk trot grew fresher, but the lone wolf managed to stay just a few steps ahead of the Silvertip Alpha. It was only a lucky glimpse of sterling silver through a lucky gap in the trees that kept the Kesuk in hot pursuit.

She lolled her tongue out of her mouth as she shouldered roughly through the trees, making no attempt now to mask her approach. The other should know she was coming.