After her first night alone out of territory Mabel wanted nothing more desperately than to get back home. This adventuring thing wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be, and what was more she was getting hungry. The short lessons she had had about tracking small prey while alone seemed to be erased from her memory and she was hopeless tracking through the woods. Hoping for a landmark she would recognize or a meal that she could catch and so far she had come up empty pawed in both regards.
The trees seemed to be getting denser if that was possible and even darker than before, soon dusk would turn into twilight and she would be alone for a second night. Nervous paranoia was her only company and every sound seemed like a threat, every whisper on the wind the breath of a predator stalking her through the trees. Was this how Ayla felt all the time? Mabel certainly didn’t like it and if she ever made it home she would take it easier on her. At least for a couple of weeks.
A twig snapped somewhere in the distance and it startled the pup into a brisk trot, the whites of her eyes showing against her brown irises. But, with the faster pace her disproportionate paws grew clumsier and caught on a root, sending her tumbling paws over tail into the deep undergrowth. At this Mabel started to cry, she was never getting home.