It had been the bellow that had caught her attention, down towards the eastern edge of the Pass. An ear twisted for a moment in confusion. Surely not? But there it was again, deep and demanding, shot through with pain. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her system already. If it was indeed what she thought it was then this was not an opportunity to be missed, especially not as isolated as they were. Someone somewhere must be looking down on them with favour to deliver such a bounty.

A short hunting song slipped forth from her lips. They would need numbers to bring down this foe (if it was possible at all). At the very least it was worth investigating. A moose, even an injured one was a formidable target, but one that bore a bounty they could not pass up with snow still blanketing the pass. She did not wait for the wolves to gather at her side but headed down the Pass towards the bellowing she doubted her pack mates could miss, with a confident spring in her step at the thought of flesh tearing between her teeth and the warm rush of blood that would soon fill her mouth. Caches were all well and good but nothing beat the warmth and tender flesh of a fresh kill.

As the trees began to thin the crash of bracken sounded to her right and she swung with heavy movements. The odd angle of the old bulls leg would not help him any as he stumbled through the trees, but even injured this would be a dangerous hunt. His nostrils flared as he took in her scent and dangerous smile crossed her lips. It shouldn’t be long now until the others arrived. They would put the old man out of his misery.