Sex: Male- Early Evening, Sunny - 63 ° F/17 ° C
The sun was just starting to set when the dark scout crossed over the borders, returning to his home after another day in the field. From his silver-painted jaws hung a hoary marmot, sable fur stained by blood. He had caught the critter off guard at the foot of the Sierra Hills, resting in a spot of sun, and a quick move had ended its life. It felt good to bring something back for once; Something more than information... But instead of heading for one of the nearby cashes, as he normally would whenever he managed to take down a little extra meat, a sudden impulse made him head for the center of the territory, tail waving pleasantly behind him.
He made his way through the Bend easily, so familiar with the territory, he hardly had to look where he put his paws. Once he reached the clearing with the old oak, he paused, looking around at the flowing grass, bathed in the coral light of the setting sun. The area was quiet, most of its inhabitants probably still out enjoying the warmth and light; At least I hope they're enjoying themselves... Sorrow still hung heavy over Oak Tree Bend, but as summer slowly began to change into fall, Drestig was starting to feel a little better, just a little more hopeful, with each passing day. He couldn't say whether that was the case for the rest of his pack mates though, he saw so little of them; Especially Triell had been unsettlingly absent. Perhaps that was what had let him here today.
With a light shrug, the raven wolf shook out his fur and continued out into the clearing, trotting swiftly through the grass, to the corner where the pack den was dug out, facing the large oak. Lowering his prey to his paws, the man tilted his head, listening for a moment to try and determine whether anyone was inside, then he cleared his throat lightly and called in a soft voice: "Hello, anybody home?"
Word count: 337
"Speech" Thoughts
WHEN YOUR DREAMS ALL FAIL,
AND THE ONES WE HAIL,
Drestig AvalonARE THE WORST OF ALL,
AND THE BLOOD'S RUN STALE.