The boy wasn’t exactly certain on where he was going. The mountain was difficult to navigate, hard on his muscles, but he didn’t mind. The weather was nice for it now that the summer was ending. He had spent a few days climbing along the rocky terrain, eventually leading to grass. He had not done much exploring in the north. He had explored so much of the lore, refusing to be stagnant too long- but the north? That was unexplored terrain. He had no idea what existed up here. Except for one pack: the rye fields pack. He cringed inwardly at the memory. His experience with the local rye field pack was not fond, he had narrowly escaped. The chance of bumping into them again was not great, but it made him cautious.  He had avoided returning for that very reason. He had been too weak to defend himself. The summer had destroyed him, with the coyotes and lack of food. He was stronger now, braver. He didn’t mind trying his luck.

His health was increasing steadily. He was more confident in his abilities. While he wasn’t looking for a fight, he wasn’t going to avoid travelling any longer. He was curious on what packs existed in the region, sharply inhaling the new scents. They tied in together, confusing him. It was clear this side of the map was popular.

He had no intention of going towards wild rye fields. That would be pushing his luck a little too much for comfort. Instead, he moved east, following the new pack scents. He wouldn’t follow them as far as the borders, but he was intrigued and nosey. How could two packs exist so close together? He almost got them confused, mixing them together in his mind as one pack, but that wasn’t right. There were two differentiated scents. Bizarre.

His eyes spotted the dusty grey wolf from across the clearing, perking his ears to catch the sound of her steps. He immediately sniffed the air, surprised to find her scent unique compared to the packs. He wondered if she knew anything, had any information about these lands. It was worth inquiring. Normally socially avoidant, his curiosity won the better of him. He moved quietly towards her, not trying to hide himself, or sneak, but softly nevertheless.

When he was without pouncing distance, he lowered his head in greeting. She was around his size, not much of a threat- but it didn’t hurt to make himself cordial. He lifted it again, offered a weak smile, then took a seat. “Not from around here?” He asked, sniffing once more. She didn’t smell like pack, but he wasn’t going to assume.

He studied her intently, considering their options with unblinking eyes. He had hunted with wolves of her size before. She seemed strong enough to help him take down the prey. It had been her to notice the creature in the first place, he had to give her that. Her senses were clearly sharp. “We aren’t behind borders,” he muttered. “They won’t pick a fight.”

He wasn’t certain of that exactly, but it didn’t matter. He lowered his body to the ground. With a flick of his tail, he dismissed the danger of hunting in claimed grounds. “Finders-keepers.” He wasn’t starving, but a meal was a meal. He wasn’t going to turn it down. Having another body only increased their chances. That was all he needed.

His ears moved forward, listening to the rustling of animal hooves against the tail grass. They would have to be careful to catch it down before chasing it across a pack border. “Try and drive it this way,” he motioned with his nose. “I don’t want to chase it into pack territory.”

He gave a small, nostalgic smirk. “Learned my lesson last time.”

The yearling jerked his head in a sharp nod. It was a good idea- he had to give her that. Chasing the prey into water would make their job ten times easier. He was quick, he knew the fawn wouldn’t be able to escape him. He was growing more comfortable with hunting in pairs. His last hunt with Shrike had been very similar, but that wolf was huge. The yearling hadn’t needed to do enough but drive it towards the bulking man. This time, neither Vaken or Circe were muscular enough to take the creature down alone with such effortlessness. They were gonna have to work for it. 


He kept himself low to the floor, his tail raised slightly above the ground. He tried not to rustle the leaves beneath him. Damn autumn. He mentally cursed the season for covering the floor in such loud plant-life. Everything was so crunchy. He would be enraged if he messed this up. 


He moved slowly to avoid it, overly careful. He wanted to make sure everything was just right. After positioning himself properly, he turned his gaze to the woman and gave another quick nod, alerting her to his readiness. Then, he bolted.

Vaken had not been expecting her to rush ahead of him. He arched his eyebrow, impressed. He wasn’t aggressively confident in his speed, but he was not use to others being quicker. This was a shock, but a pleasant one. It didn’t take him long to accept it, throwing his weight forward, desperate to catch up. He returned his attention back on the hunt fully. He would have time to discuss her speed over dinner.

He watched her give the first bite, nipping at the creature’s heels. He caught up, standing beside her, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He was clever enough not to get in the way. He was careful to stay on the same side of the wolf, leading the doe left. If he cut in the front, it would ruin everything. The yearling was careful not to put himself in the path, allowing her to lead the prey towards the water. He quickly joined her at the creature’s back heels, lightly grazing it with his front teeth.

He was careful to avoid the hooves. The last thing he wanted to eat was dirt. When she started to aim higher, he stuck to the creature’s heels. He wanted to make sure the animal didn’t try and dart forward, or go around in circles in panic. They needed the fawn to get into the water. He sunk his teeth into the flesh of the fawn’s heel, then spat it out, avoiding a sharp kick. They were close to the water now.

“Close,” he hissed, jumping forwards the flank of creature. He gestured towards the water with his muzzle. Their prey was falling into their trap.