She had tried to sit and watch the goings on at the lake shore from behind a screen of red leaves, her overly fluffy form tucked neatly against the dusty ground. However, each movement of hare or wolf set about the littlest wiggle in her hindquarters and Aoibhe soon found that she was crouched with her rump in the air and tail curled brazenly over her back, all alone under a bush. With eyes of spun gold she watched others hunt and talk to one another and a keening little whimper reached her ears a moment or two before she realized that the sound was her own. Aoibhe stood up then, quickly and a little self-consciously. With an abashed look around the underside of the shrub, she took first one step, and then a bound out into the open.
The fall sunlight caught on the lakes surface and threw off a prismatic glare. Aoibhe’s coat shown bright white, and her thick strong limbs were surprisingly agile as she dashed after a wee hare, the straggler quickly learning that he did not belong on this far edge of his grazing grounds. Her jaws snapped shut just behind his rump, likely giving the creature the fright of his life—one that would be much longer than many of his cousins upon whom the wolves that would gather today would dine. As for Aoibhe, she was distracted by the sight of a friend. A happy yip left her lips and she bounded over to where the familiar wolf stood watching the goings-on. “Hickory!” She greeted him, bowing good naturedly and batting in his direction with a large black-padded paw. “Hello!”