the dope show

Clouds gathered overhead, threatening snow. Despite spring being right around the corner winter was in no hurry to relinquish its hold on the northern lands of Boreas. Natha rested high up in a gnarled oak tree. The view was spectacular and the terrain was just to her liking. She was cleaning blood off her face from an earlier kill, her raspy tongue sliding along one of her great paws before she'd rub purposely at her face. The cleaning after a meal was an important ritual for her. She did not want any lingering remnants of prey to give her away on her next hunt or to alert other predators of her success.

A hind limb stretched out elegantly and she scratched at her ear and yawned before stretching out along a limb to catch a cat nap. Then all fell silent. There was a distinct lack of noise that only meant another predator was shifting about in the brush and as she peered around she noticed a dark, male wolf moving around on the ground below her.