teach me, master

Absinth watched with amusement as the young wolf stalked their prey. The intensity in their eyes and those careful movements spoke of determination, but the snap of a twig shattered the tranquility of the hunt. Absinth's bright green gaze met their wide-eyed surprise, and she could see the flush of embarrassment creeping up in the young wolf's expression. They had a funny looking set of second eyes there, but it didn’t seem to be some crazy ass new mutation to put on her list of weird shit she’s seen.

With a very soft chuckle, Absinth stepped closer, her movements fluid and unhurried. It was then she recognized the scent of the Armada, and her thoughts instantly flashed to Wylan and Oleander. This wolf was around their age, she was sure they would know each other... It
was easy to be around those kids, especially when they absorbed knowledge like sponges. “Shh. You're not the first to make such a mistake, and you certainly won't be the last.” She said, her voice carrying low and whispered, even slightly teasing. “But if you want to avoid those mistakes, you'll need to be more aware of your surroundings.” She glanced at the squirrels, who had resumed their foraging, and then back at the dark yearling. “Your prey hasn't noticed us yet. You still have a chance.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she continued, “Watch how I move, and try to follow, hmm?”

Absinth lowered herself to the ground, her body moving with the grace of a seasoned hunter. Each step was deliberate and silent, her paws avoiding the telltale crunch of snow and the snapping of twigs. She circled around the nameless teen, positioning herself to give them a clear view of her technique.

“Slow, controlled movements.” She whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was the whole point that they could hear her voice over her steps. She paused, waiting for her impromptu student to mimic her actions.


wormwood