Everyone's Got a Baby Caribou.

Rakia moved silently behind her packmates, each footfall a measured silence amid the orchestra of wild nature around them. The scent of caribou filled her nostrils, robust and earthy, amplified by their eagerness and the crisp purity of the surrounding air. Her heart pounded in sync with the rhythmic crunch of paws imprinting upon virgin snow, the conspicuous symphony of life taking its course.

Her eyes remained focused ahead, their sapphire depths reflecting the shifting panorama of the winter landscape. The caribou were nearly within her reach, their oblivious grazing causing a thrill to ripple across Rakia's fur, a silent prelude to the symphony of the hunt. She felt the tension in her muscles, a coiled spring waiting for release. Her breath hitched, crystallizing in the frigid air as her gaze met with that of the elder caribou. The creature was plump and well-fed — a gift from nature herself. But realisticall …. a little difficult for her to take on her own. Perhaps some of the others in the hunting party would give him a go.

No, instead, her attention found that of a female. Nothing special. Average for her size. But she was on the edge of her group, which left her vulnerable. The caribou's eyes were glassy, filled with a placid calm that was so often seen in prey animals. Her sides heaved with steady breaths; each small puff of hot air was visible in the wintry chill. Her brown fur, rough and patchy from the season's hardships, stood out starkly against the surrounding white scenery. A simple creature, living simply, soon to serve a higher purpose within the cycle of life and death.

After a few moments of preparation, the group descended upon the unsuspecting herd. It was chaos. But her mind was made up, she moved with deadly precision. And once she was close enough to her target- she went for her throat.

"Rakia Perreau"