Since the pack hunt, Fenru Tainn had been driven by the instinct to <i>prepare</i> for the next few months. His younger sisters would experience their first winter soon and the yearling was determined to give them every reason to enjoy the relaxing, but coldest part of the year. He, himself, had had a particularly unfortunate experience with autumn and winter. First, just as the leaves had fallen, brown and devoid of life, he had discovered the death of the first friend he had ever encountered. Then, as November and December blanketed Relic Lore, he found that he had no energy whatsoever to enjoy the phenomenon that was <i>snow</i>.
He smiled to himself as he recalled to mind how... <i>beautiful</i>, entertaining, and <i>scary</i> his first snowfall had been. The skies were gray and though he, Rihael, and Kisla remained nestled in the den, waiting for Corinna's return, he could not help but to be amused by the strange, bits of white that had started to fall from the sky. It had captured his attention for sometime but after that first experience, his mind had shut down. Food had been scarce when his father and certain pack members had left and he had no choice but to conserve what energy he had for <i>growing</i>... for <i>survival</i>. Now that he was shouldering the responsibilities that had once belonged to Angier, he discovered the opportunities that came with hunting and cache-stocking, as well as the satisfaction that came with realizing he was indirectly helping his mother and the pack help raise Aiyana and Rissa.
Herds of deer were slowly beginning to migrate again, but the boy knew now that most of them would still be nearby in the next month or so until the winds and nights became much cooler than they already were. Creeping through the underbrush Fenru kept low as he exercised his senses, testing his tracking skills. He hadn’t noticed had far he had wandered away from the Grove until the aroma of fresh blood pierced his nostrils. <i>Someone had been here.</i> He drew forward from under a canopy of low-hanging branches so he could lift his head and take a deep breath. <i>Old and new blood.</i> Coyote, rogue wolf, fox, and badger... <i>Everywhere.</i>
He craned his head about before inspecting a small mound that rested against the base of one of the forest’s gnarled trees. From what he could pick up underneath the fresh smell of death, what had been buried here clearly belonged to some lone soul, hoping to eat another day. It was strange. Now that he took the time to scan the area, he noted something rather <i>off</i>. The longer he stood <a href='http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Gnarled,_lichen_covered_trees_-_geograph.org.uk_-_565927.jpg' target='_blank'>underneath the crooked boughs</a> that fought for the space above him, the more scents he picked up. <i>Fear. Anger. Ravens. Crows. Mice.</i> He dared to inspect the area further, slowly becoming aware of the ground beneath him, hard and rotten… uneven as though it had been <i>disturbed</i>.
Fenru tripped over what he thought was an unearthed root and as soon as he withdrew his right limb from being snagged on the protruding obstacle, he gazed over his shoulder to stare at what had once been a fawn. His breath caught in his chest and his ears drew back.
<i>What is this place?</i>
His eyes, electrified with shock, darted to the ground around him. No wonder everything was so still here. Everywhere underneath the crawling ivy and fallen leaves, wherever natural debris could not pile up, skeletons and old pelts <i>littered</i> the forest floor. Was this where Angier the Hunter had been spending a majority of his days when he had supposedly loyally served his family? Had he hunted and cached away his prey here for his own use? Contributed to this graveyard of a place that could only be described as the pack <i>Keeper’s barrows</i>?</blockquote>
(This post was last modified: Nov 29, 2012, 07:57 AM by Fenru.)
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