Page halted, a scent drifting towards her. Her feet tingled with the urge to follow it.
Hare.
Unsheathing her daggers the pretty shifter slunk silently towards where she had pin pointed her prey, her footsteps quiet and her eyes focused.
There it was, the creature she had been stalking was hopping lazily amongst the huge roots of an oak tree, it was undeniably huge, with a long lean body and tall, shaped ears.
Instinct taking over Page began to hunt it, her grip on the daggers firm but not difficult to hold.
She looked relaxed, her shoulders were slack and her knees were bent in to a stance.
It wasn't long before she had gotten only a few metres away from her prey, and with a quick flick of her wrist she launched herself at the creature. The Hare's piercing shriek split through the air, disturbing a nearby thrush which took to the air blaring an alarm call. But the shifter was too quick for the hare, and she killed it with one swift move, her dagger plunging into its neck.
“To me, Fearless is not the absence of fear. It's not being completely unafraid. To me, Fearless is having fears. Fearless is having doubts. Lots of them. To me, Fearless is living in spite of those things that scare you to death.”