The light was fading and shadows began to move in from the dark corners of the earth as the monochrome hours of dusk took hold. It was at this time that Lorcan decided to venture to the lowlands to creep quietly within the shadows, golden eyes intently searching for his next meal. That was when he had seen it – the sudden flash of white as small group of Snowshoe Hares darted away and underground.

He daren’t breath. The young male crouched there, perfectly still, his face masked behind the tall blades of grass that sprouted along the few feet that lay between Lorcan and the shadowy entrance to the rabbit tunnel. Charcoal lips were pressed firmly together as the hungry predator tried his best to control his impatient and excitable breathing, willing his breath not to disturb the rhythmic dancing of the grass in the evening breeze. His russet ears were perked forwards and flickered subtly to the sound of faint rustling that echoed out from within the hares’ lair. He could hear them shuffling, hiding temptingly just beneath the surface. A small snarl tugged at his top lip as the young male lowered himself an inch or so closer to the ground to ease his tense, aching muscles. He needed to be patient.

Russet ears twitched incessantly upon the smooth curve of his head, as Lorcan listened in to the commotion that was happening just beneath the surface of the tundra’s terrain. He could hear the panic in the hares’ tiny hearts, which fluttered all the more hysterically with each silent second that passed by. A small smile tugged at the corners of his charcoal lips as he continued to wait at the tunnel entrance patiently. He enjoyed hunting, the thrill of the chase – because unfortunately unlike his more stocky brothers, Lorcan had been blessed or cursed with the advantage of speed and stamina over herculean strength. He was no fighter, but he was good at running away from them.

Golden eyes were quietly locked onto the tunnel’s entrance as he sat, almost entranced as he stared into the dark bottomless hole. Russet ears grew still as he pinpointed the position of the rustling from movement underground, the hares’ were beginning to tiptoe closer – until all of a sudden they weren’t. His white brows frowned in annoyance as he heard the sudden thump of bodies clashing and then the hurried pounding of tiny footfall as the group of hares scurried away, deeper into their safe underground passages. Something had spooked them. Golden eyes widened in disbelief as he carefully inched his way forwards to jam his muzzle into the empty lair’s entrance, quietly kidding himself that somehow a hare would turn around and run into his open jaws.

It was then that he heard the sound of heavy footfall and harsh breathing suddenly approaching him. No sooner had Lorcan turned his face around to send a sharp glare of annoyance towards the oncoming individual, had said individual barrelled straight into him, leaving the Lorcan with a fur-riddled grimace and a sore nose. “Urrgh..” Almost immediately the silent hours of dusk were shattered by the loud bellowing of the dark haired stranger as he demanded Lorcan into action. Blinking slowly, completely bewildered by the situation, and still sore from the brute’s impact with his face, Lorcan compliantly rose to his feet. He stood there, silent, in front of the male with his brows twisted awkwardly in aggravated confusion.

Silently he judged the stranger and took in his appearance. Similar in size to Lorcan, although a little shorter in the legs and a little thicker in build, with predominantly black fur and a sharp yellow glare. The young male flared his nostrils, breathing in the tense air between them. Unable to detect any obvious dominating scent, Lorcan labelled the dark-haired brute a loner and so opted for a neutral stance, albeit his ears, which lay flat against his crown in caution. He was yet to work out if he had caught the male on a bad day or if he was just plain rude regardless. Nethertheless, Lorcan returned back to the stranger’s question “Hunting out hares, if you must know…” There was a slight sharpness to his voice, brought about by the male’s rude manner, but Lorcan tried his best to reign in his words and remain polite, lest it lead to confrontation.

Lorcan watched in silent amusement as the dark-haired male tilted his head to angle his ears down to the ground and listened out for the fleeting sounds of the hares hasty footfall patter through their underground tunnels as they fled. A single twitch tugged at his upper lip, aggravated by the strangers need to confirm his answer for himself as if he had been lying. A soft grunt grated within his throat as he observed the male suspiciously, unsure of his intentions, before his attention was turned inwards to the warm throbbing at his snout. Salmon pink tongue swept up to lick soothingly at his muzzle, leaving a thin coat of wet saliva there that quickly grew cold in the evening breeze.

He glanced up again in surprise when the stranger presented him with yet more questions, white rows raising in interest. So the male had managed to identify that that he was carrying the musky scent of a pack, which wasn’t that hard really given its purposefully dominating odour. It was Lorcan’s immediate reaction to tilt his chin in a nod of agreement, when a hot wave of caution washed over his skin, causing the fur along his neck and back to bristle with unease. He had remembered back to his conversation with @Craw that had taken place during the time that they had travelled from the mountain to the monadnock. Specifically, he remembered, were the pack rules. He shouldn’t give too much away about the pack, for fear that someone should wish to use detailed information against them.

Lorcan didn’t exactly trust this stranger, his manner did not put him in a good light. So, Lorcan decided it would be best to exercise some discretion in his answer. He wouldn’t lie – for he was a terrible liar, but half-truths were easier to master with convincing confidence. “Yes.. the Whitestone Pack, —completely failing to mention the key feature of the monadnock—from nearby.” He answered calmly, doing his best to keep a cool expression on his face. “Why do you ask, Sir?” He asked with a intrigued tilt of his head. He hoped his manners would calm the stranger down and reassure him that Lorcan wanted no trouble.

Lorcan gave an inward sigh of relief when the dark-haired stranger responded with a casual shrug and dismissed any knowledge of the Whitestone Monadnack pack. The young male was thankful really that the brute knew nothing of them, apart from of course the very vague details Lorcan had now disclosed to him – he, personally, wouldn’t be particularly thrilled if someone like the male standing before him, with his rude manner and raging temper, ever made it into @Craw’s and @Morganna’s ranks. That would, no doubt, result in unwelcome tension within the pack – and Lorcan felt that it was somehow his unfounded duty to keep the pack peaceful.

Lorcan waited expectantly for the stranger’s reply to his own question, only for a long moment of silence to pass between them, which the young male couldn’t help but shuffle his feet awkwardly in as he done his best to remain patient and composed. When the dark male finally responded to his question, his answer was equally – if not even more so – as vague and un-telling as the answer Lorcan had strung the stranger along with. The young male snorted amusedly, nodding his head in plain acceptance. However, in the back of his mind, something bothered him: what had he meant by assets nearby? His answer likened it to his own, in which he had offered up his pack’s name - or at least half of it. His brow curved in suspicion, unsure of how to take the snippet of information, but with a shake of his head he brushed his concerns aside and focused his attention back on the man before him with the intention to find out what he was up to.

“So, were you planning on catching something too out here?” He chimed, diverting the conversation away from the subject which he felt uneasy about, and turned his head to glance back down to the empty hare’s tunnel entrance, a small satirical smirk sweeping across his face, as he cocked his head to one side teasingly. It didn’t look like Lorcan would have much luck tonight with his plans for a meal.

Lorcan glanced up to the dark-haired male when he denied looking for food out on the tundra plains, a suspicious glint shimmering in his watchful gaze as observed the male gaze down to where he had previously motioned; at the shadowy entrance of the lair and waited for the explanation that he craved for. When the male mentioned the heat, the young male nodded along slowly in agreement and his ears pricked up when the stranger continued on to say that he didn’t wander the lowlands often. Lorcan chuffed contentedly. That knowledge somewhat calmed his previous concerns about the wolf, comforted that he would not be mulling around the area when his pack was nearby. Lorcan slowly circled around the man, before settling himself down on his haunches. He felt less threatened now, as the man seemed to be showing a more agreeable side to him, a side that the young male was happy to tolerate.

“There is a river not too far from here, at the palisade.” He offered up the information willingly, considering the stranger’s obvious discomfort in the harsh heat of the summer. “Perhaps, you might like to visit there?” He gave a small nod of encouragement.

When the male spoke of more packs in the nearby area, Lorcan listened closely. He wanted to hear more, tempt out all the details, but also he feared that doing so would encourage the male to ask his own questions about Whitestone Monadnock. Questions that the young new pack member did not feel comfortable answering. So, he held back his flurry of questions which burned in his skull. “Good to hear!” He murmured, before getting back onto his feet and giving a thorough shake of his pelt. He was eager to get back to the pack lands now, and report to @Craw about what he had found out – even if it wasn’t much to go on. As he turned his body to face the direction of the monadnock that nestled over the horizon, he shot a glance towards the dark-haired brute over his shoulder. Before he scurried away, he desired one last snippet of information. “I’m Lorcan, by the way.” He said, head dipping in respect with his ears flat against his head as he paused to catch the man’s name before leaving.