Ashe
(5)
The direction she'd chosen had been wrong. She sniffed carefully, catching hints and ghosts of scents on the breeze, but nothing definitive, no trail to follow. It was only the first few minutes of the hunt however, and she was not so easily discouraged. She had spent whole days searching for game before, so when Loren was the one to call out, the least experienced of the three, she picked up her head in surprise.
Her ear flicked, and she let out a small huff of a bark in acknowledgement before she turned to head toward them. She picked her way through the underbrush on nimble paws, coming around a tree and ending up at Sunjata's hip. The fur of her shoulder brushed him as she leaned her nose down close to the ground, sniffing deeply at the tracks and filling her senses with her prey.
Golden eyes turned up to Sunjata and then Loren, huffing sharply before looking ahead with ears pinned forward. Her very blood coursed with the thrill of what was to come, anticipating the chase, the gnashing of her jaws, the triumph of sinking her teeth in.
The direction she'd chosen had been wrong. She sniffed carefully, catching hints and ghosts of scents on the breeze, but nothing definitive, no trail to follow. It was only the first few minutes of the hunt however, and she was not so easily discouraged. She had spent whole days searching for game before, so when Loren was the one to call out, the least experienced of the three, she picked up her head in surprise.
Her ear flicked, and she let out a small huff of a bark in acknowledgement before she turned to head toward them. She picked her way through the underbrush on nimble paws, coming around a tree and ending up at Sunjata's hip. The fur of her shoulder brushed him as she leaned her nose down close to the ground, sniffing deeply at the tracks and filling her senses with her prey.
Golden eyes turned up to Sunjata and then Loren, huffing sharply before looking ahead with ears pinned forward. Her very blood coursed with the thrill of what was to come, anticipating the chase, the gnashing of her jaws, the triumph of sinking her teeth in.
which one of us will wear the bigger bruises
when the war is done?
