Weight was heavy in his jaws, he could feel the twinge along his square muscle that encased them. What a long walk. Oh how good it was to be almost home. It put a swift fluid to his falling gait, and a slim smile to his black lips. The cool of the night, the last hours before the dawn he let himself go slack when he crossed the border line of the Ridge. There was a content sigh that pooled from his lips, and made his thick tail sway back and forth. He had greatly missed that feeling of coming home, there had not been anything worth returning to. No more, he thought.
Pale paws moved over the snow, bearing a new weight despite the winter months. He was almost whole again. What he lacked he placed on the blame of his scars both inside and out of a curse he was still trying to leave behind. A wrinkle of his muzzle he dropped his kill at the base of the a large willow's trunk, and fell to his haunches. A soft crunch, the cold snow was inviting to his worked muscles, the heat of friction from regular wear and tear. Sealing his eyes he took in a long breath, absorbing his surroundings, and recollecting the scent of the Ridge. Not that he was bound to forget it. Composed he shook out his rough, and rose in a high stretch. It was time to see what use his kill would be. A deep, but gentle note rang from throat for an awakened wolf to hear, but not to stir a sleeping one. The call for his leader, Elettra.
His low note faded, a yawn made it's way and then the man circled before falling beneath the thin canopy of the tree. The male tucked his legs beneath himself, and rested his head on his shoulder in wait. The sound of faint foot steps it would lift again to share his catch.
(This post was last modified: Jan 02, 2013, 01:51 AM by Sica.)