now, and he turned his head a bit, left eye gazing at the wolf. "Haven't
seen any deer around here in a bit. Gonna just have to catch a rabbit 'er
somethin'." he whispered, shrugging his thick shoulder blades. He cont-
inued forth now, creeping ever so quietly, as not to disturb the peace around
him. Nostrils were flared wide, ear swiveling, and eyes alert as he kept along.
After about ten minutes, his body froze, and he became a living statue.
Rabbits. Plenty of them. There was a small opening up ahead, where the willows
drooped their sad branches towards. A large burrow came into his vision, and
his eyes narrowed as he spotted at least four rabbits out grazing and gathering
food. Turning his head back to Follko once more, he whispered yet again: "You
fast enough?" he seemed to tease, the excitement of the hunt quite apparent
on his once stoic and apathetic face. He felt his blood begin to pump at a faster
rate. This always happened to him when preparing for a chase, whether it was
after a deer or something as small as a vole. Hunting was hunting.