Touchy, Touchy

~ TARKYN ~

Tarkyn crept around the trunk of one of the larger trees in the little valley and smiled the smile of a predator.

Harth was crouched behind a mound of fallen branches and rocks, listening. But he was downwind. She hadn't scented him—and hadn't yet realized he was behind her.

He would have liked to have told himself it was only his skill as a tracker and scout that had put him to such advantage, but the truth was, the bond was far more clear for him than for her.  It made him uneasy to know that somehow he felt their connection more than she did, but he shook it off.  It could simply be a function of their different physiologies.

It didn't mean she loved him less.

He crept forward using all of his skill to keep his feet silent on the grass, not leaping on her until she was within reach.

"Gotcha!" he growled.