She stares at him in absolute concentration. She hadn't yet tried to follow Reich in his daily hunting or however he acquired her food so she hadn't really had anyone to watch. Her mother had always deliberately told her to stay until she returned, usually adding how loud and obnoxious Fjallraven was and how she would only scare the food away. So she had been unknowingly learned in the art of nothing. If only she knew that her mother's true intentions were to leave her without skills for the female had thrived upon knowing she held the fate of the charcoal girl in her paws. It was a fickle thing, fate, for her mother had ultimately disappeared and she had been left for dead. Still, her mother was just that. Her mother. The love she had for her caregiver and the one who had birthed her was absolute. It was unspoiled in Fjallraven's complete innocence and terror.

It is disappointing almost to see the humor that rests in his striking familiar orange eyes. Yet that humor also comforts her. Jericho is not the type to dole out punishment in his lessons, merely letting her make her own mistakes, and she cannot help the thrill that goes through her as he includes her in his plans. It doesn't bother her that his voice has grown strong and sure. She is certain of Jericho's kindness and goodness and maybe she was willing to follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked it. As long as he'd include her in what was going on. She had never felt so heady in the company of another, even Reich tended to disappear - she was sure it was to be with Everlyse, but she never complained. She was happy to have his friendship anyways.

He leans into her and she finds herself leaning back into him with an expression of open curiosity in her eyes. "I won't! Her voice is firmer than it has ever been before. In this moment she is both nervous and excited. Maybe she will get lucky and prove to herself that she could do this. At least with Jericho watching she couldn't wander off.

The chatter of the racoons heightens her anticipation. She is practically swaying on her skinny feet as she waits for the moment when the male will launch himself. Fjallraven is still uncoordinated and her weight shifts to the side so that she ends up stumbling, crossing her foreleg over the other to gain her balance and shooting him a furtive, embarrassed look before he launches into the attack.

They scatter in squeals of fright and protest. They certainly sound more vicious than rabbits but she will defend her spot no matter what. They would not make it to the cavern! It is all a blur in the moonlight as gray, white, and black bodies scatter and amble swiftly towards her and away. There is so much confusion in this moment, her heart racing. Wait, where did that one go? No, what about this one? There was no way she could focus on all of them and her anxiety grew but she suddenly focused on one. Unfortunately it was a rather large female with some long fangs who was glaring at Fjallraven as she tried to run past her.

Bite, yes, she must bite, so Fjallraven jolts forward, her weight jerking her from side to side (what little weight there is) and she dips her head down with ears pressed back so that her teeth grab on the racoon's shoulder. Only it isn't really a bite, more like a nip, and before she realizes it the racoon spins around and swipes it's nasty claws across her nose. Fjallraven lets go with a loud yelp as she jumps back and the coon takes off once more, triumphant. Blood trickles down her nose now and past her lips and her eyes water. What the hell! How did her mom do it without getting hurt?

She turns her eyes dejectedly at Jericho, noting the handicapped racoon struggling nearby and the way he watches her. "I'm sorry," she whispers, tail down and head hanging at her own pitiful performance. She had so hoped she could catch one but by now they were all safely ensconced in either their den or the darkness beyond.