You had been crouched there for nearly an hour. Still. Patient. The kind of waiting that had become second nature over the years.

A rabbit had wandered down to drink on the opposite bank. Its ears twitched. It couldn’t see you. It couldn’t smell you. Not yet.

The forest was quiet except for the water and the wind. Your claws pressed into the damp earth, ready.

Then the rabbit’s head snapped up.

Not at you. Something else. Something behind you.

The rabbit bolted. And then you caught the scent on the wind. Alpha.