Redhawk Caldera Betting on the bull in the heather

In a mirror image of his invitation, Niamh sank into a bow to accept the challenge, though she instinctively bounded backward a pace or two first- having thought he might give chase to her. It put a bit of space between them as Whip began to surge away from her through the snow but she was quick to recover and thought snidely to herself that it was simply a show of mercy that she'd given him, allowing him a bit of a head start. With long legs like hers, there wasn't a wolf she thought could beat her in a flat out race-

But she had forgotten about the significant slash across the front of her left leg. It'd healed to the point of beginning to scar, but the healing skin was fresh and thin still, and this would be the first time her step would move past a slow trot since before Kiwi had bitten her. She felt the skin tighten and pull with each stride as she ran, ans felt the ache of deep tissue complaining all the way up her forelimb but she pushed through it, and charged after Whip. The snow cushioned her footfalls, at least, so the impact of her foot hitting the ground was lessened somewhat. 

She issued a low, playful growl as she pursued him, tail waving and ears pricked as she watched him for any sign that he might dodge or swerve- so she might cut a corner and catch up with him.