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Frozen Tear stopped running abruptly. Silver Painted Angel, who'd been following wihtout paying
attention, bumped right into her. "Ouch," she muttered.
"Maybe you should watch where you're going," Frozen Tear snarled.
"Maybe you should watch where you're stopping," Angel countered. A few seconds passed
in silence, then she went on, "Or at least tell me why we stopped in the first
place."
Rolling her eyes, Frozen explained, "I scented a fawn. It's alone."
Angel's wolven eyes sparkled at the implication they could finally eat. Lifting her own muzzle
to the sky, she caught a trace of the fawn's scent herself. Her ear swiveled as she picked up
something so quiet it was almost silent. It was a troubled, or terrified, crying from a mile
or so away. They were smelling the trail left behind by the young deer. Her mouth watering,
she asked impatiently, "Ready to go?"
"As always," was Frozen's gruff reply.
At once, Angel took the lead, picking up the pace with every few steps they took. Soon they
were loping steadily along, tongues hanging out, breathing in the sweet spring air. However,
once again it ended with a start. As they topped a hill, they stopped with a jolt. This time,
though, no crash.
In the sunny valley below them stood a scared fawn, screaming to its mother, who it'd lost
without noticing. Nothing else made a sound. Birds were quiet, the fawn had silenced, and no
insects buzzed in the long grass. All was calm.
But not for long.
Suddenly the birds in the field next to them exploded into the sky, and the growling of two
hungry she-wolves closed in. The fawn stood frozen as the two cornered it, its short life
flashing before its eyes. Then fangs closed around its throat and blood soaked the
ground.
A few feet away, a startled doe took off at breakneck speed. But as it watched the two wolves
rip apart the fawn from atop the hill where they'd been just moments before, it felt the
motherly instinct to defend her baby. But it was too late.
The fawn was dead.
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