Word Count: 308
Ceara nodded at Rift’s words. Her friend was right; they’d have to get it out of the bush before they could do anything else with it. But then, in the next moment, Rift let out a tremendous howl. Ceara flinched, her ears going back along her skull. Howling was a bad idea right now. There were only two of them out here, and howling gave away their position for any number of bigger, meaner animals like bears to come and get them – let alone other wolves. She didn’t once think about joining her friend’s howling. She was too petrified of an ambush of some kind, and lay down in the snow, looking around frantically. She always was a little paranoid, but it kept her alive.
When her friend was done howling, and no monsters had come out to attack them, meek little Ceara stood up again, glancing furtively at Rift. It wasn’t her place to tell her friend that what she had done could have killed them. Rift was still the Alpha in her mind, and no one told an Alpha what to do unless the Alpha asked for council. Instead, Ceara slinked past the she-wolf and began studying the buck. They would have to get it out of the bush without harming themselves on the thorns. She looked back to Rift. “How do you want to do this?” she asked, waiting for instruction.
She had taken over the direction of the hunt, and now that she was looking back on it, she was surprised by herself. Generally, being who she was, she did not give orders to others. She let others give her orders. With this reaffirmed in her mind, she was determined to let Rift tell her what to do about this. She would follow the female to the ends of the Earth at this point.
The way she shows me I'm hers, and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine