9/7/2025, 12:19 AM
The huntress had been unaware of her pursuer, for the time he'd been on her trail. Midge had adapted to solitude reluctantly, and still often found herself made uneasy by the distant yowls of coyotes in the depths of the night, and the singularity of her citrus-and-spice scent. But she had adapted, and her days were quiet and simple. It was not an easy life, but it was hers to shape.
The sable she-wolf lay in the grasses on the hill overlooking where a small gathering of elk cows grazed. They were cautious of her presence, but she posed no threat to them for now. Midge was well-fed from a beaver she'd rooted out from its pile of sticks; a pungent meat but one her wolf's body could stomach with nary a problem. Her keen gaze was the first to spot the shadow splitting from the denser trees and bushes, and Midge could hardly believe it - another wolf, out here?
Then, the man silently trod further into the sunshine, the elk blissfully unawares of their stalker, and Midge's ears pricked atop her crown, her breath quickened in her chest. Was that Gekirin, from the Dynasty? She had thought everyone had dispersed their separate ways. She unfurled herself from her comfy bed of sweet-scented ferns and leaflitter to begin descending the hill toward him. Across from her, one of the cows lifted her head and snorted with alarm, not yet bolting but on highest alert.
