Blessed are the curious
The snap shocks Knell out of the stupor of tracking, her black-tipped ears twisting forward to locate the source ahead of them, her eyes following close behind to correlate the information. Despite not hearing the sound again, it echoes in her ears, guiding her gaze to the small bundle of fur frozen off their path.
Knell holds her breath, heart beating against her chest as she analyzes what to do. A flick of her ears, a fidget of her tail, a twitch of her nose. She takes in everything but ultimately looks to her mom for an example on how to proceed with the instincts coursing through her system: the urge to spring and chase and bite. However, as her eyes sweep towards the fyrhund, a thumping sound rips her focus back to the blink hare and the strange smell that's now filtering through the air.
Before she has a chance to wonder at the pink scent of sour sweetness, their prey - and apparently its entire family - are blinking in and out of existence. Knell abandons her crouch, paws spread as her head whips from side to side, trying and failing to track the teleporting hares. She can't even tell which one of the grey fuzzballs was their original target, but as her heart races and the adrenaline pings at her from every side, the thrill drowns out any concerns for control or logistics in favor of action.
She springs forward, bounding on light paws in a zigzag attempt to intercept the hares. Her divided attention makes each leap fall on open air, claws sinking into dirt and brush rather than soft fur, but the childish glee of the chase keeps any frustrations or annoyances at bay, her eyes bright and darting amongst the underbrush in search of her next target.
Knell holds her breath, heart beating against her chest as she analyzes what to do. A flick of her ears, a fidget of her tail, a twitch of her nose. She takes in everything but ultimately looks to her mom for an example on how to proceed with the instincts coursing through her system: the urge to spring and chase and bite. However, as her eyes sweep towards the fyrhund, a thumping sound rips her focus back to the blink hare and the strange smell that's now filtering through the air.
Before she has a chance to wonder at the pink scent of sour sweetness, their prey - and apparently its entire family - are blinking in and out of existence. Knell abandons her crouch, paws spread as her head whips from side to side, trying and failing to track the teleporting hares. She can't even tell which one of the grey fuzzballs was their original target, but as her heart races and the adrenaline pings at her from every side, the thrill drowns out any concerns for control or logistics in favor of action.
She springs forward, bounding on light paws in a zigzag attempt to intercept the hares. Her divided attention makes each leap fall on open air, claws sinking into dirt and brush rather than soft fur, but the childish glee of the chase keeps any frustrations or annoyances at bay, her eyes bright and darting amongst the underbrush in search of her next target.
Knell
for they shall have adventures!
