bringing home the bacon

Enyo crouched low over the rolling grass of the prairie, her thick paws carefully manipulating the rope in her grasp. The snare trap required precision, something she prided herself on, even if her appearance often spoke more of brute strength than dexterity. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she looped the cord around a sturdy branch, pulling it taut.

The tall grasses waved around her, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the leaves. She appreciated the quiet was the kind of work that demanded focus. Each knot had to be perfect, the tension exact. One mistake could allow her prey to escape, and failure was not something she tolerated.

Her muscular shoulders flexed as she adjusted the tension. Eyes flicked to the path ahead, imagining the unsuspecting buck she intended to catch. The trap was half-done, but the satisfaction of seeing it come together was already setting in. She tugged the rope once more testing its hold.

Enyo paused, glancing down at her work. It wasn’t finished yet, but the pieces were coming together.

Soon, the hunt would begin.

"SPEECH"