Sex: MaleNighttime. Cold as all get out.
He shouldn’t be here.
The feeling crawled across his skin, colder than even the iciest of winds. Hearthwood River was too close for comfort, and there were packs, so many packs in the area! Why had they all clustered up in the north like this? Kjors could not recall so many sprung up when he last travelled this way, still under the Baranski reign – but that was not his focus now, no. His focus was returning to the mountainside, where Karina and Bennet were holed up. The point of all this was to bring them back something to eat, but the cold snap was making hunting particularly difficult.
At the very least, the frozen fjord made a veritable highway for him – with ice and snow covering the water, it was much easier to travel than the slippery slopes on either side. Claws ticked across the hard surface when something in the moonlight caught the man’s eye; never one to deny his curiosity, he stepped forward, until he approached the stick jutting out of the frozen water.
Except, it wasn’t a stick at all. It was a leg.
Kjors ears pricked forward as he reached forward to sniff at the hoof. “Well, Ah’ll be damned,” he murmured to himself, tipping his head to one side. It was practically a gift from the Mother Herself – but would he be able to extract it without plunging himself into the deep?