Morning; Mostly Cloudy — Current Temperature: 57° F/14° C

Grizzly Hollow's newest members had arrived and somewhere deep within the heartland of the territory Jaysyek was tucked away with four new souls. Four hungry souls who needed all the nourishing they could get. Shortly after dawn the leader trekked through the forest with his nose to the forest floor and tail aloft. The four-legged beast he was confidently ready to take down today shouldn't have gone too far but it surprised him to a degree that the scent of elderly moose lured him all the way to the edges of the Marsh. He eyed the patches of mud where it had clearly been disturbed by arthritis-plagued hooves. Every so often the track slid sideways as if the beast could not tolerate the slippery ground beneath him. The hunt that would unfold in a matter of moments would not even call for them to belabor their target. Its days had been numbered and only a few minutes of its life remained.

This should be easy, he told himself in his head. All they would need to do was ambush and bring the bull down by hindering the movement in its already stiff limbs. The wolves of the Hollow deserved that much. They had endured the winter enough to prosper in the spring, managed with the loss of both their Seconds and welcomed new life. They had also endured a shift in leadership and Borden had yet to see how they would take his commands or heed the call he would make to summon them. His eyes scanned the immediate area around him then focused intently on the tree line that stopped so suddenly to give way to the cloudy skies and open sky. Something in the distance made his pale eyes dart slightly to the right: a movement just distinct enough for him to pick up the texture of dark brown fur against the rough brown bark of the trees.

There.

Borden sounded out a low howl that requested the presence of the pack. The bull moose's antlered head lifted slowly and its ears twitched. It seemed to be up for a fight today but the Lyall knew for a fact that anything it would do to try and avoid its downfall would be in vain. To die for the sake of the wolves of the Hollow, the 'protectors' of the forest it inhabited, would be a much more sensible - maybe even honorable - purpose.

Some time had passed since he'd last encountered Borden, and what an encounter it had been. In the days since, he'd seen his fair share of fulfilling and empty endeavors, and there wasn't a moment when he had forgotten Jaysyek all the while. Well aware that she was expecting, it was certain that the pups would be born any day now, if they hadn't been already, so it was no surprise when Borden's fresh trail leading to Whisper Marsh was intercepted. He'd followed it intently for a greater part of the morning, here and there taking note of the hooved tracks which intermingled with the stamps of the Lyall's large paws. Perhaps the Leader had something in mind...

Blackbirds would flee the tree tops as the call rang out through the expanse, and in return the Guardian's pace quickened. Winding through the tricky, muddy tangles of vegetation, it was a matter of minutes before the dark-featured man came into view. He looked well, and as Kade closed most of the distance inbetween, he reflected on the fresh scar healing on the angle of his own shoulder with fondness. Perhaps it was the first of many he'd wear for the true patriarch of the land, and of his leader.

Aware that a spoken word could be an unwise, as the scene was notably set for a fair share of bloodshed, he readily issued a respectful, compliant nod in the Lyall's direction, rectifying his support and eager disposition.

The masked leader peered through the foliage from where he and Kade had taken cover. Vlarindara had prowled to the moose's side and he sought her attention as she got into position. She crouched low, ready to spring. Borden turned to Sibyl next, his eyes tracking where she had skulked off to by the subtle movement of the plants she gently crept past. He caught her figure somewhere amidst a thicket of vines. His gaze returned to Vlarindara for a brief second then turned toward their prey as it swayed. The beast inched forward then sideways, taking a misstep or two as it was caught off-guard by a soft depression in the forest floor. The mignon bloom it had been aiming to snatch up was much farther than it had anticipated and, with a second attempt, it successfully plucked it and its stem from the ground. This was it; it was more than likely caught up in savoring its last meal now more than ever.

Go.

The Lyall's broad shoulders squared when the creature turned its blind eye toward him. His tail and the tufts about his neck and shoulders rose aggressively as he lurked forward, a growl thundering from his throat as he broke his cover. Not waiting for even a delayed reaction from his target, Borden launched himself at the bull moose's throat. It struggled at Borden struggled to keep hold, its knobby elbows awkwardly flailing as its arthritis-plagued joints failed to move properly. A second growl filled the air as a sharp hoof managed to stomp on the leader's hind feet. He pulled the moose's neck downward, trying to anchor the creature and keeping it from thrashing its antlered head at the hunting party.

Time would bring the emergence of a pair of Hollow wolves to the scene, where the unsuspecting target fiddled along without even a hint of caution to his lengthy, if not stiff steps. Silver eyes shifted from the aged bull to Borden and back, and here and there in the heat of the suspense he would look upon the females who were now slithering into position. The flickering tip of his tail would grow still as the man anticipated a cue from the Lyall. In an instant the bull had looked in the leader's direction, and without hesitation he had made it clear that it was time.

His dark head would lower in pace with the swift strides that propelled him onward and toward the hooved creature whose fate was to be sealed. Despite the shuffling of paws and hooves, all was silent in his head, which was undeniably clear, and his attention was tuned to the meager rippling of the moose's atrophied musculature, the sway of its motion, and the intense feel of fear and panic that coursed through the thick air.

Borden wasted no time in securing a grip on the beast's thinning neck, and with the flashes of his packmates in the periphery, the male took an opportune position to back up the grey-shaded wolf as he fought against the bull's stomping movements. A menacing snap would graze the closest of the animal's long, knobby legs as Kade positioned himself close enough to ensure, between the two men, success. Slick, ivory fangs penetrated the sienna-hued pelt and tissue of the beast's exposed underbelly with a menacing snarl, and he would work at it for a few more lashings before Borden's toes were stomped. The shrill cry of pain redirected his focus, and before any further injury would come as a result of Borden's tactful position, the Attaya made quick work of securing the proximal foreleg in his wide, clenching jaws. Gathering his weight beneath him, he would roll back just so on his hind end as to pull the thrashing limb from the moose before it was swiftly ripped from his mouth in response.

Working at the foreleg in the manner was tedious labor, but as soon and sure as Borden's creamy toes were safe, Kade knew it would be only minutes before the struggling skeleton of a moose king would come down.