when i run through the deep dark forest long after this has begun,
Mazikeen falls easily into step just a few paces behind the elder wolf and Dayé smiles, a smug grin on her black-lined lips. She wonders briefly - faintly - if this is what having a daughter would be like; it had never occurred to her that she would ever become a mother (time is a fickle thing and passes far more quickly than she would like, and she is not one for random couplings or heat of the moment passion), but now the idea does not seem so distant, settling in the recesses of her mind comfortably.
Dayé remembers her first hunt. She had been trained by the lioness that was her mother and thus learned to hunt on in solidarity. However, her wolf skin feels at ease with another at her side, loping purposefully through the pines that border the cove with the ivory and onyx girl beside her. Soon the instinct would sink in for Mazikeen, Dayé muses - the moment the scent of their prey meets the sensitivity of her nostrils, the girl will find it hard to resist as each part of her wolf (down to the very cells) begin to lead her onward. But the elder is there to guide and to ensure a successful catch, so when the scent of a hare first begins to tickle at her nose, the coffee brown of Dayé’s eyes flick to her partner. She begins to slow her pace, scouring the ever-darkening forest for the path that would lead them to their prey.
Knowing that Mazikeen would follow her lead, the dusty rose-colored wolf remains silent. Her padded paws keep her stealthy as she trods carefully across the debris of the forest floor, her sharp eyes trying to fixate on the hare that she could smell so distinctly on the air. A few more minutes pass and the wolf freezes, watching as the hare picks through sticks and broken leaves with its nose, completely unaware of who awaits in the shadows. “We will surround it and attack at the same time.” Her voice is even and does not break as it rushes through soft lips, trying to remain as quiet as possible. “Do not forget to bite.” There is humor in her voice here and she turns her head gently behind her to offer Mazikeen a delightful smile that appears almost sinister on her wolf’s mouth.
With that, Dayé leaps into the darkness without a sound, disappearing into the brush.
Moments pass and when Dayé has positioned herself opposite of Mazikeen, she takes the lead by breaking through the trees first, jaws snapping and forelegs outstretched to grasp at the hare if it dared to dart away from her shining teeth and snarling mouth.
Startled, the hare leaps up and away from Dayé, bounding straight for the young wolf that waits in the shadows.
Dayé
where the sun would set, trees are dead, and the rivers were none.
@[Mazikeen]