SKILL: HUNTER (1/5)

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Her growling stomach pushed her into attempting to hunt. A necessity born from the limitations of foraging. Roots and fruits had sustained her for a time, but they could only provide so much nourishment. Unfortunately for Bunny, she now occupied the body of a wolf, which meant her nutritional needs had shifted dramatically. She was primarily carnivorous now, and that meant she needed fresh meat, a stark contrast to her human diet. The thought of killing another animal didn’t scare her; it was just catching the darn things that she was struggling with. Bunny was clumsy, and at times she managed to trip over air—an embarrassing fact, but her reality nonetheless. It made her feel more like a goofy puppy than the fierce predator she was embodying.

Fortunately, her keen senses picked up the tantalizing scent of a rabbit. Having followed it is what led her to this exact situation now: chasing after the fast little critter and trying to catch it. However, Bunny’s experience, or lack thereof, resulted in the rodent getting the best of her and hiding in a burrow where she could no longer reach it. Exhausted and exasperated, she collapsed onto her hindquarters and shot an irritated glare at the hole in the ground. Ah, cheese and sprinkles! she muttered under her breath, her frustration spilling over in the form of a huff as she sat there and tried regaining her breath.

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cú has been lucky. there is not much more game here, no, but there are berries that have not yet rotted and fallen. it and crow together tear through bush after bush, and it is enough for crow but nothing near what fills a wolf. but it keeps it alive another day.

survive.

the forest and the brambles loosen out into fields of golden flowers. it is...cold, but not the cruel cold that stole its breath from its lungs under that tree, and the sunlight is weak and watery but clings readily to its black fur. cú remembers long summer days spent lazing in the sun with crow and misses them fiercely. but it still has crow, and that is all it has ever needed.

it coos a choppy imitation of a crow's caw and crow swoops down, talons prickling into patchy wintershed fur. comfortable, together, they creep along. its keen nose picks up something warm and tangy; it quickens its step, though cú is careful, careful, to remain quiet and crouched even with its lanky halfgrown limbs.

track? crow asks it in a low croak, and cú gives a fluting chirp of assent.

there are wings, and then only the rustle of grass. cú lifts its head and paces after, quick and light, mouth watering at the thought of meat-

there is a voice. frustrated, a low hush. a huge sloping figure in the colors of sand and autumn-moon. cú wavers, uneasy. it regards her with wide eyes and sniffs at the air, nosing carefully at the dirt. the prey-scent is still there but blood has not been spilled.

"food?" it ventures cautiously, pacing a wide halfcircle around her.