The fae watches Song as he moves forward, pacing towards the water. She falls in behind him, stepping lightly, muzzle lowered and eyes fixated on the surface of the water, watching for any sign of the small animals. Her ears are pricked, her gaze narrowed, every muscle taut and ready. She isn’t nervous or plagued by self-doubt. Thorne had trained as a hunter since childhood.
They catch sight of their prey, and she stiffens immediately, every sense honed in on those tiny creatures. As Song moves away, rounding on their targets, she slinks away in the opposite direction, keeping her steps as light and soundless as possible. As they reach their positions, Song waits, evidently relying on her to initiate the attack. Thorne pauses, adjusting herself, ensuring that she is in a position that does not carry her scent across to the capybara. After a heartbeat, the mahogany she-wolf breaks into a run, rushing at the prey so suddenly that they have no time to move out of the way. She gnashes at one, watching it skitter away in Song’s direction, then swings abruptly, snapping up the second as it attempts to spring past her.
The metallic tang of blood fills her mouth as she delivers a quick bite to the creature’s neck, killing it instantly. Laying it at her paws, she turns her attention to her companion, hoping that Song has been equally as successful.
