"Pssssst! Psst! Moss wake  up!"  I cracked my eyes slighty to see Wynter's eyes smack infront of mine.  "Moss let's go!"  She was eagerly bouncing around the den squeeking mixed words, of which all I could pick out was "training, catch, hunt, berries".  When she was done ranting I shook my head and said, "Alrighty let's get started."

She darted in and out between my paws on the way out of camp for about five minutes before realizing that the weight of her new responsibilities have been placed on her shoulders, and slowed her pace. 

Little did she now I was already testing her.  I listened intently for the sound of prey, but so far none had shown.  Thinking of future training exercises, I didn't realize Wynter had dropped into the hunter's crouch we reviewd when she was a pup.  The sweet smell of rabbit wafted past my nose, almost enticing me enough to catch it on my own.  I could hear a low growl starting to rise in her throat, but she hushed herself before I could.  Her paw crunched down on a leaf, and the prey's head shot up before it turned to run.  Swift as lightining, a blur of her snow white pelt flashed by before she tumbled in a clumsy summersault.  I was preparing to comfort her when she sat up grinning ear to ear with the hare between her jaws, and shook leaves off her own pelt.

Warriors swarmed the unsuspecting Wynter as she bounced into camp, the kill dangling from her still smiling fangs.  Words of congratulations and praise where the last thing I heard before being called inbto Sam's den.