Wolf Hunting
“They thought she was going to fish, and so she was, but they might have been surprised in which waters she dipped her paws. First, she did find a massive, sour-tempered old snapping turtle. She broke open his shell with her powerful jaws, scooped out the red flesh with velvet paws. Then, having made the waters safer for generations of short-lived fish and insects, Truth climbed high into the limbs of a tree. There she washed, the rhythmic lapping of tongue against fur soothing her into a state ...between sleeping and waking. This was an old trick, taught to every kitten who showed signs of seeing more than one world, one time. Truth had disdained it for many years, her gift being so great that she must only adjust her will to have the means of reading omens open to her. Now she washed, tongue against packed density of fur, almost tasting the dark rosettes against the golden field. She thought of nothing, focused tightly on one thing. Meddler … Meddler … Meddler … She asked for nothing, looked for nothing, but felt in the swirling twists a current that tugged at her, offering her a look elsewhere in time.MoreLess
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