"I wish you luck on your journey, Halgen. During a winter like this one, every wolf will need lady fortune on their side." If one didn't have luck, things could get ugly - last winter Deneb had had a strong pack, and they'd kept one another strong in turn, their bellies filled. He'd seen lean times before that, though, in the months he and his brother had been trying to piece together the beginnings of an empire. It seemed like an eternity ago, now. He'd seen, too, the grisly deeds that desperate wolves might stoop to if they were forced to in order to survive. A slain wolf near his own borders last winter had bore the unmistakable marks of cannibalism by another of their species, prompting the then-lord both to contemplate what he might do in a similar situation, and to deny the nervous, hungry-looking vagabond who had come calling for acceptance three days later. Although Deneb had turned that she-wolf away, for the safety of his own, he could not say he would be above such things himself, if that was what stood between life and death.

The smile painted on his jaws gave away nothing of these dark thoughts, though. Instead he was cordial, nodding his farewell to the male called Hal. Large paws stirred to action, keeping Deneb aloft on the surface of the snow as he turned his own separate way, still licking blood from his jaws. As the specter faded into the snowy landscape, he glanced over his shoulder but once, picking out the dwindling tawny form against the field of white.

-exit-