Sceral crawled through the bushes like he was a great explorer of an unknown world, his eyes shooting back and forth in his quest for unknown life. He was a warrior, a hunter, a scout and also a herbalist in his little makeshift world, a silly little fantasy in which he was the best just under his dad. In fact, dad had been kidnapped by Snobblers and Sceral was going to save him! Oh, his dad was going to be so proud when he proudly declared he had ‘slain the Snobblers’ and his mum would call him the bravest wolf and everything would be great! A shame it was all a made up game. The Aesir second born slowed to a halt and stared at a nearby weed. A mere dandelion to any older wolf but to him it was a … a … ? He squinted as he thought of a name suitable name. “It’s a Sun Baby!” He wriggled closer and snapped his small jaw around the thin stem and yanked, pulling flower away from roots. He’d give it to ma. She’d like it.

Raising from the ground, turning and lifting his legs in an almost trot-like manner, Sceral pranced along until, suddenly, he froze at a very alien sound. It was like a chk-chk noise and it was close. He gripped his flower’s stem firmly and lowered to the ground again. Following the chk-chk noise, something very distinct smelling hit his nose and he sniffed. It smelt strangely good. The boy had no idea it was the scent of blood, all he knew was that it was interesting and his nose was very keen on it. And so he continued. Poking his head through a bush, he dropped his flower at what he saw. A bird writhed around, flapping uselessly and opening it’s pointy mouth over and over to yell. If Sceral paid attention, he’d note the blood and the injured wing and leg the pheasant sported but, at the current point of his life, he had no idea what the heck it was or why it was dancing weirdly.

Suddenly, he was in game mode again; he had a face to the vicious Snobbler race and this was their king. The stupid fat Snobbler king right here! Without a second thought, he flung himself from the bush and right at the Snobbler leader. It squawked and attempted to flee, useless and in pain. Crashing down on it with a sudden explosion of feathers, Sceral snapped his jaws with growls and barks. “For the paaaaack,” he cried out, grasping onto the pheasant/Snobbler by the wing. Bad move. It pecked at him wildly and the Aesir boy yelped, releasing the wing to paw at his sore nose. Anger replaced pain and the pale boy growled, watching the stupid, fat, ugly Snob bler attempt to escape. Leaping forward rather ungracefully, he caught the bloody bird by its neck and shook his head from side to side angrily. Stupid. Fat. Ugly. Gross. Bully!

He paused his shaking, tipping slightly to the side with dizziness and dropped the Snobbler. Panting as his chest heaved, Sceral barked. Had he won? He shoved it with his nose before jumping backwards, expecting that sharp bit to snag his nose again. Nothing. He nervously crept forwards before glancing shiftily from side to side. He … he won … he’d killed the Snobbler king. His tail suddenly wag from side to side at an impressive speed and he grabbed onto the pheasant. He’d take it back to the den and, and, and … oh, it was so good to think about! Ice! Corinna! Serach! Come see your brave prince! He had won!

Gone Tomorrow

The truth was, she simply hadn't been paying attention. Head settled upon her creme paws, the leader had allowed her alertness to drop for a moment - along with her eyelids. The grass was warm against her belly and the sunlight pleasantly heated her back. It was the perfect recipe for a wonderful afternoon nap, or a disaster, depending on how you looked at it. Corinna wasn't really sure how long she had been dozing, but when she slowly cracked open her eyes to let in the light of day, she knew it had been far too long. There were no more sounds of chattering or yips and growls - Serach was asleep in the entrance of the den, his pale face buried into his tail. Lifting her head up, the mother barely stifled a yawn as she looked around to spot her other cub. But Sceral was missing and after a quick investigation into the den to be certain he hadn't gone inside, Cori was up and on her feet. The drowsiness was quick to subside, hurried away by rapid shakes of her head and shoulders to mentally clear her head. Alert and ready, the Bend leader set off to find her missing son.

Sceral might have fancied himself a great explorer and an excellent tracker, but he had yet to learn how to mask his own trail. Black nose glued to the ground in search of his trail, it didn't take long for his anxious mother to find it. Concern hurrying her steps, she ran after the trail he had made into the woods surrounding the den area. Hopefully he wouldn't have made it too far, and certainly not far enough to reach the borders. But..."Sceral! Sceral!" She shouted as she ran along his makeshift path, hoping he was close enough that he would answer her call and come running - safe and sound.

The pup certainly was developing a tendency to wander away from the safety of the den, though he thought very little of it. It never really crossed his mind that there might be wolves out there who would try to hurt him, or animals that thought of him as prey. No, all he knew was family and pack. The Oak Tree Bend wolves were his family, right? Of course, he knew families could and would fight. They could be angry at each other, but kill each other? Such things didn’t cross his mind.

Did the dead pheasant in Sceral’s small jaws think the same way before it fell victim to the small and somewhat brash wolf boy? Such philosophical things were lost on his young mind. Instead, he decided to carry the limp bird back home. He’d brag about how he caught and killed it to Serach, make it sound really heroic. His sore nose would be proof that a courageous battle was fought between wolf kind’s hero and the Snobbler king. He could hear his mum’s voice now, calling his name. Sceral! Sceral! Wait, wait a second … that was his mum! “Mmh!” He yelled with a mouth full of feathers, skittering along as fast as he could with his prize towards the sound of her voice.

Finally, she appeared and his murky eyes lit up. “Mmh!” He charged towards her and dropped the Snobbler at her paws before flicking his tongue at her nose happily. “Ma, look! I got it!” He pawed happily at the dead bird and grinned wildly, eyes flickering between mum and trophy. Here came the praise …

Gone Tomorrow

At least there were no strange scents along the path that Sceral had made for himself on his adventures. They were still well within the pack's territory, so any stranger passing through would have been putting themselves well and fully at risk. But the anxious mother could not forget what had happened with Rissa, and how her spirit of adventure had ended in disaster. The memory helped to spur her along, head tilted downwards to sniff eagerly at the ground.

"Mhm!" Pausing momentarily, one forepaw lifted into the air, Cori tilted her head in the direction the sound had come from. It was muffled, but she would know her son's voice anywhere. Hesitation gone, she bounded off, the anxiety slipping away the closer she got. And soon enough, there he was, his pale body bounding towards her just as eagerly as she was running for him. Except...

The smell of blood and death hit Corinna's nose as Sceral approached, dropping his prize at her feet. The bird was dead, and somewhat disfigured - a wing out of place and a foot hanging at an odd angle. But even more startling was the blood upon her son's muzzle. His pale lips had been darkened by the crimson liquid that had leaked out as he held it by the neck to carry it to her, or when he had killed it. She wasn't entirely sure which. Leaning down, she sniffed at the bird uneasily, but the only scents on the dead beast were that of her son and the bird itself.

Looking down at a beaming Sceral, obviously proud of his work, Cori could hardly contain her disbelief. "What did you get? Where did you find it, Sceral?" She asked him, using her paw to nudge the dead bird that he had dropped before her.

Sceral was oblivious to Corinna’s disbelief and her curious sniffing only caused his smile to grow wider and toothier. He was also oblivious to blood smeared across his lips, completely enveloped in the pride that swelled in his chest. Killing a pheasant was a pretty impressive feat for a young, growing boy, especially one who had never hunted in his entire life. Then again, the bird was already injured and rather weak, so in reality had he simply offered a mercy killing without knowing it? Such thoughts were lost to the young boy as Corinna, too, pawed at the lifeless, feathery heap upon the floor.

His brow furrowed a little as his mother actually asked what it was. She … she didn’t know? That had to be wrong, mum knew everything! She had to be playing along with his game, didn’t she? With the puzzled look suddenly wiped from his face, Sceral puffed his chest out and stood a little wider, taking on what he thought was a heroic pose. “Is the king of the Snobblers, mum!” It didn’t occur to the boy at all that she’d actually have no idea what a Snobbler was or why they were so evil and mean. He eyed the dead bird cautiously and prodded at it again with a huff. “He stole dad an’ I went to go finds him!”

Sitting down, his tail sweeping across the dusty floor, Sceral eyed his mum a little suspiciously before he pouted. “You knows wha’ a Snobbler is, right mum?” Obviously she knew what a Snobbler was now: this was a Snobbler.

Gone Tomorrow

The mother knew that the bird was a pheasant, but what she didn't know was how her son had obtained it. Was this something from a cache, hidden away by another one of the pack's members for their own snack later? They shared, of course, but still. It was poor form to steal from family, and if that's what had happened, then the leader would need to track down which subordinate her son had inadvertently stolen from. But the smell of fresh blood and the blood stains on his son's face, made all the more evident by his beaming smile, suggested that Sceral had, in fact, made his first kill.

"It's the King of the Snobblers, mum!" Sceral's confused expression had changed to one of pride, that same pride echoed in his voice as she exclaimed what it was he had lain before her. But Corinna's stayed right where it was, her head tilting to the side as she looked down at him, trying to process what it was he had said. The Snobblers? What the hell were Snobblers? Perhaps it was another mythical creature invented by @Merlin to amuse her sons; snobblers sounded similar to crocodiles and elephants. But before she could correct him and tell him what it was he had really caught, Sceral caught her by surprised by what he said next - the Snobblers had stolen Ice. Had Sceral seen @Ice go lurking off and thought him lost?

Sceral must have seen the clear disbelief on her face, and his smile faded away, the corners of his lips turning downwards into a pout. Reaching out with her muzzle, Corinna placed a kiss on his forehead. "No, sweety, I'm afraid I don't know what a Snobbler is," she confessed, sinking down to her stomach in front of him, pup and bird alike between her forepaws. Level with him, she looked at Sceral to gauge his reaction to what she was going to say next. "I do know what a pheasant is, though. That's what you caught here, Sceral. Your very first kill," she quickly nosed the bird again as she said its name, hoping her son would understand. "Only smart and strong wolves are good hunters, and you managed to do this all by yourself," Corinna told him, her look of puzzlement finally giving way to a wolfish smile. "Your dad is pretty smart and strong too, though. I don't think he could have gotten captured by a bird this tiny. Do you?"

Sceral stared at his mother’s confused face, not quite understanding that she truly, truly didn’t know what Snobblers. He blinked back the surprise as she admitted to not knowing what a Snobbler was with a soft kiss. His mum was supposed to know everything! How could she not know? Then again, even the boy knew he had made up the little world that played out in his head, knew that whatever this flappy thing was, it definitely wasn’t a Snobbler. Besides, everything already had names. Like grass and trees and crows. Maybe it was silly of him to try and tell his own mother, the smartest wolf in the world, what something was.

It was at that point that Corinna told him it was, in fact, a pheasant. “Your very first kill.” His murky eyes widened, his tail suddenly whipping enthusiastically. “Yeah,” he giggled, triumphantly pushing his little chest out as he beamed up at his mother with a smile brighter than he had ever pulled before, “my very first!” Had Serach made his first kill yet? Sceral hoped not. He wanted to be the first!

The confusion on his mother’s face faded into a smile and the body hopped from paw to paw, barely able to contain all the excitement he felt. Only smart and strong wolves were good hunters. “Uh-huh! I did it all by myself, ma!” Truthfully, young Sceral adored receiving praise, loved the satisfaction of knowing that he’d done a good job. His mother then went on to mention his dad, Ice, and the young Aesir furrowed his brow slightly. She’d just said this was a pheasant, not a bird. Little cogs turned and his brow lifted with the sudden realisation that, oh, a pheasant must be a bird! Did that make a crow a bird too? They both had pokey things and flappy bits but looked a whole lot different, just like trees and grass. Still, he nodded in agreement with his mother. She was right, his dad was far too smart to get captured by a puny little bird.

With his attention directed back to the pheasant, Sceral tilted his head from side to side. “So, do we eat it? Or somethin’ else?”

Gone Tomorrow

Whatever disappointment might have plagued the young prince was short-lived. His blue eyes grew wide, and it was a wonder that his bum didn't off it was wagging so hard. Jaws parting, Corinna's tongue rolled out and she grinned right back at him, her own tail whipping the grass back and forth behind her. A couple of months old, and her son had already made his first step into adulthood. Just another reminder that they did not stay young forever, and soon she would need to organize a pack hunt so that Serach and Sceral could learn what it truly meant to hunt. Though...that would mean sharing the praise. Eyeing her son, Corinna chuckled to herself - that would be the hardest part of all.

"Good job, love," Cori encouraged, pushing back off her forelegs to sit up. Rolling her shoulders, she looked down at her son who was now considering the bird. "What do we do with it? Well...are you hungry?" The smell of blood was strong in her nose, having thoroughly investigated both the bird and her son. Saliva had begun to pool in the back of her throat, and had she been on her own, the bird would have been slaughtered and eaten alive still in its nest. But this was Sceral's kill, not her's. If he wasn't hungry, then she could teach him how to create a cache, otherwise, perhaps he would be kind enough to share some. "If not, we could make your very own cache. A cache is a place where we keep food that we don't eat. Sometimes we hunt animals a lot bigger than your pheasant, but hunting is hard work. We don't want to waste it." The mother eyed her son intently, hoping he would understand. Serach and Sceral were still weaning, somewhere in the transition between nursing and consuming solid food of their own, and at least for now, they had not been taken along to any pack hunts to know firsthand what it was she was talking about.

Praise was given and the young prince of Oak Tree Bend wanted to whoop with joy. Instead, he remained in a fixed grin, tail wagging, and an excited giggle escaped him. He’d done it, all alone, he’d killed the pheasant without any help (sort of) and now he got to reap the benefits. First of all, he just needed to know what those benefits were. Looking to his mother for answers, as always, the young boy eyed the bird a little as Corinna asked if he was hungry. He could eat it, yes. This bird was, in fact, food. He briefly considered tucking in to his trophy but as his dearest mother continued, his ears perked and his attention was returned to her. A cache.

The idea of a cache was very simple but to the young boy it seemed ingenious. They were intended to save the meal for later, for when he was hungry. If he didn’t eat it now, he’d get to show off in front of Serach, too! Oh, he could only imagine his brother’s face as he paraded around with his first kill. Wolves could hunt bigger things, as his mother explained, and he couldn’t help but grow excited at the prospect of hunting big things. It was a difficult task that was well worth it and to Sceral that sounded great. He always liked having a warm, full tummy and whilst he’d never hunted himself, he could understand that finding food required effort and it didn’t just get up and walk into your hungry mouth. “Okay,” he yipped excitedly, “I wanna do the cache thing, ma!” Then, maybe after he’d made one, he could try and find more things to store away from some other time.

Gone Tomorrow

Corinna's worries had long since disappeared. Now that Sceral was firmly within her sights, he wasn't going anywhere, and nothing would endanger him while she was there. But even so, the smell of blood would not go unnoticed for long. There were other creatures out and about in these woods, many of whom would welcome a tasty snack. It seemed that Sceral wasn't interested in eating his prize immediately, and so with a woof, Corinna hoisted herself off the ground. For the time being, she towered over him, but with more time (and more pheasants) it was doubtful that would continue to be true.

Nudging Sceral's bottom with her nose to urge him forward, she took a few steps forward. Turning around, she paused to wait for him to grab his kill and carry it. While letting him carry it might make them take longer to get to their destination, Cori didn't want to deprive Sceral of this treat. He was far too proud of his kill to want to let her carry it for him. So they walked slowly, back in the direction of the den. Not all the way, but close enough that when Sceral decided to reclaim his prize, she wouldn't have to worry.

After the pair had traveled a suitable amount of distance, Corinna came to a stop. Grinning at her son, she made a great show of looking around. Walking around in a big circle, she weaved in and out of the trees. Her nose dragged along the ground in the dirt, sniffing out an adequate spot. After a minute or two, she found it - a loose patch of grass and dirt, about two leaps from the closest tree. "Come on, Sceral! We gotta dig a hole!" She encouraged, tail waving above her back. With a "yip", she began digging away at the soft ground to create a hole large enough for his kill.