Askan could have sworn he'd seen that thin snouted bugger head this way, and from the smell of it he was right. It wasn't as though he didn't have better things to do than chase a coyote through the snow, but that mangy mutt had been hanging around the Rye Field for days now and enough was enough. If it really thought that Askan was going to tolerate its stink, then it had another thing coming. Sure, a lone coyote posed little- if any- threat to the pack, or Percy now that she was grown, but in his eyes it had gotten too bold, too presumptuous. So there Askan was, tracking the little beast through the woods and the snow with the intention of ripping it's throat out.

That would stop it from slinking around the borders.

He was getting close, he could smell it, with each footfall the scent grew stronger, more potent. Askan grinned with morbid anticipation, he couldn't wait for the salty taste of blood on his tongue. It had been too long since he'd made a kill, a proper one and not just a hunt to fill his rumbling stomach. He galloped along, mouth hanging open with his tongue lolling out at the side. His heart thundered in his chest, but not from exertion  rather the thrill of anticipation. Oh he couldn't wait to show that little bastard how stupid he had been, how foolish it was to mess with the Rye wolves. It would learn the hard way, and he'd leave its body nearby just to remind other coyotes that it wasn't a good idea to try and harass his pack. Because if they did they'd suffer the same fate.

There it was, the tricky, slippery sod. It had been leading Askan on a wild goose chase from the Lowlands to the Stonewatch Timbers. But now Askan had it in his sights. He crouched low, his ears pressed to the top of his head as his leg muscles coiled and tightened in preparation. Slinking closer, Askan crept nearer and nearer. Just a little more and then he could-

The coyote let out an alarmed yelp, suddenly broke out into a sprint and disappeared between the bare trees. Something had spooked it- loud, alarmed voices. Who the hell had ruined his hunt? Either way there would be hell to pay. Straightening his posture, Askan stomped out into the opening, his expression one of absolute fury and loathing. He opened his mouth to give the pair- a white wolf and a tawny one- a piece of his mind when he realised just who he'd stumbled into. Again, but this time not quite so literally.

Askan was supposed to be civil. He had to play nice, or at least he was told to. And he intended to, but that didn't mean he was going to kiss their asses. Things hadn't gone well between the Rye Monarchy and the Whitestone wolves, so Askan had to do his best to keep his temper in check to ensure things didn't get any worse. But that being said, if they though they could gang up on him then they had another thing coming. He wasn't at all bothered by the presence of the little white wolf, he doubted she's be much good in a scrap, and from past experience he knew the same applied to Lorcan. But no... That wasn't going to happen, if he got mad he'd just take a deep breath and calm down. He could do this, he had to do this. He had no choice, he wouldn't ruin things for his pack again. Not if he could help it.

"You seen a coyote round here? Scrawny little thing." He asked, glancing between them to see if they were harbouring the little beast. He doubted it though, that would be low even for Lorcan. What sort of wolf would want to share company with those little beasts?

But wait, what were they doing out here? They were closer to the field than they were to the.... Big rock thing they lived on. Of all of the places to hunt they chose here? Askan sighed. He supposed this was karma wasn't it? Payback for all the grivances Askan had caused. He'd redeemed himself though, hadn't he? He'd been working hard, even Drestig had said so. He was doing better, progress was slow but it was progress nonetheless. Yes, he could do this. If anyone could it was him.

"It's been slinking about, it's pissing me off." He added with an annoyed grumble.