Morning washed the rocky terrain in golden light, illuminating the world as well as her target. Halla lay crouched among the red rock formations, watching a small herd of bighorn sheep. The moved expertly across the dry, rocky terrain. There was a wounded male, whose blood had alerted her to the herd's presence. He was a sizable creature to take down along but she hoped that the injury to his left hock would be enough to slow him down so that she could get a meal. The sun shining down on the herd made their pelts seem to glow. Perhaps she should get a nice hide to tan and stash away for the cooler winter nights.
Halla steadily crept closer, doing her best to keep her pale pelt hidden and her body down wind.
