The running of paws on the snowy ground sounded like the rhythm of drumbeats. Two deeper beats pounding together in unison, while a small tapping sound wove between them. The Kelvic siblings raced forwards, each excited in the hunt that was about to begin.
Lyr, the oldest brother, was a tall and gangly wolf. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he ran forwards. Nida, the middle sibling, was a sinewy and lithe talderan snow leopard, who kept abreast with her brother without much trouble. Struggling behind them – but not too far behind, for her older siblings would never leave her by herself – was Sondi, an arctic fox with clever eyes and delicate limbs.
The lust of the hunt shone feverishly in the young animals’ eyes. Their mother had sent them off again to gather food, so that they could hone their skills while still providing for the family.
Sondi abruptly stopped, sniffing at the ground. Her siblings noticed the lack of her panting breath and the pitter-patter of her steps, and turned around. They headed towards her, careful not to disturb the fox as she examined the churned snow. Their sister yipped twice and bobbed her head, which was their signal for “caribou herd”. They all bared their teeth in exultation at the speed in which their quarry’s trail had been found. Now they had to track it.
Lyr headed over to the prints, sniffing at them for a trace of their scent. Nida left him to that task, examining the ground and the trail. The snow was freshly fallen, and it was easy to pick out the trail of the caribou, who had churned the snow up as they all headed in one direction. With an indicatory growl to her siblings to signify that she’d found the path, Nida set off. She could hear the panting of her siblings as they ran behind her, but she forced herself to pay it no mind, to focus not on sounds but on sights.
The trail was simple enough to follow, but Nida began to pick out several details in it. She couldn’t possibly hunt down a whole herd, and she had to pick her prey carefully. Somewhere to the side of the slush were a few tracks, and she swerved to the side to get a better look at them.
Caribou travelled in vast herds, and their chance of catching anything depended on whatever caribou were around the edges of the group. If there were young ones, or wounded, then the chances increased. But if they chanced upon more hale and healthy prey, a chance would have to decide who would win either their life, or their next mouthful of food.
She nodded her head towards her siblings, pacing herself as she jogged forwards, following the trail closely. Her siblings caught up easily and joined in her gentle pace, her brother prancing forwards with his tail wagging and long loping strides, while her sister daintily picked her way through the snow.
Lyr, the oldest brother, was a tall and gangly wolf. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he ran forwards. Nida, the middle sibling, was a sinewy and lithe talderan snow leopard, who kept abreast with her brother without much trouble. Struggling behind them – but not too far behind, for her older siblings would never leave her by herself – was Sondi, an arctic fox with clever eyes and delicate limbs.
The lust of the hunt shone feverishly in the young animals’ eyes. Their mother had sent them off again to gather food, so that they could hone their skills while still providing for the family.
Sondi abruptly stopped, sniffing at the ground. Her siblings noticed the lack of her panting breath and the pitter-patter of her steps, and turned around. They headed towards her, careful not to disturb the fox as she examined the churned snow. Their sister yipped twice and bobbed her head, which was their signal for “caribou herd”. They all bared their teeth in exultation at the speed in which their quarry’s trail had been found. Now they had to track it.
Lyr headed over to the prints, sniffing at them for a trace of their scent. Nida left him to that task, examining the ground and the trail. The snow was freshly fallen, and it was easy to pick out the trail of the caribou, who had churned the snow up as they all headed in one direction. With an indicatory growl to her siblings to signify that she’d found the path, Nida set off. She could hear the panting of her siblings as they ran behind her, but she forced herself to pay it no mind, to focus not on sounds but on sights.
The trail was simple enough to follow, but Nida began to pick out several details in it. She couldn’t possibly hunt down a whole herd, and she had to pick her prey carefully. Somewhere to the side of the slush were a few tracks, and she swerved to the side to get a better look at them.
Caribou travelled in vast herds, and their chance of catching anything depended on whatever caribou were around the edges of the group. If there were young ones, or wounded, then the chances increased. But if they chanced upon more hale and healthy prey, a chance would have to decide who would win either their life, or their next mouthful of food.
She nodded her head towards her siblings, pacing herself as she jogged forwards, following the trail closely. Her siblings caught up easily and joined in her gentle pace, her brother prancing forwards with his tail wagging and long loping strides, while her sister daintily picked her way through the snow.
