Moss sniffed around carefully. She was sure the white flash she saw was a rabbit. Crouching downwind, she caught the scent again. Slowly but surely, she set her paws in the rabbits footsteps. She arrived at a clearing, surrounded by pine trees with three fallen ones at the end. It smelled like another animal, young ones, maybe, but all Moss was concerned about was the rabbit. There it was: sitting in the middle of the clearing, sniffing causually at the grass. Moss allowed herself a low hiss of triumph as she stalked the rabbit, ready to pounce. She shifted her haunches and got ready to leap.

A rustle from the back of the pine trees alarmed Moss, upsetting her balance. The rabbit noticed it too, pricking it's ears. It twitched its whiskers for a moment, then scampered away. Moss shifted her weight, now more concerned with the pine trees as another rustle emerged. She stalked behind the fallen pines. There was something here now, she was sure. She crouched, her claws ready, as a small gray paw shot out from behind the trees. Moss lunged at the paw, and then realized it was a wolf pup's and frantically tried to twist to the side. She ended up landing painfully on her side. A pair of big, curious black eyes popped up over her side, followed by another small head.