With Cheedo and Odin at his side still, Wraith lifted his muzzle to bellow a howl, summoning the pack with a battle cry. Despite their exhaustion from the long trip to lead the herds back to them, the alpha imagined both Cheedo and Odin felt the same rally within their blood that sang for the hunt. It gave strength where it otherwise would have waned. His voice left no room for argument. Come! We hunt as one!
He hadn't anticipated it taking so long to find the herds in the first place - they'd gone farther west than he'd thought - but they were here now and they would take advantage. As tired as they were, so too was the herd. A few in the herd had already been flagging, either from illness or injury. It would make it all the easier for Cyril to make his decision, for their ailments would be obvious. It would be the boy's decision which prey they chose. He could only hope his lessons would stick with the lad when he made the decision. Youth tended to go for the biggest and strongest in a show of pride. Foolish pride, for it often resulted in bruised pride and empty stomachs. But Cyril was smart and Wraith had faith he'd choose well.
With message sent, the brute settled in to wait with Odin and Cheedo for the others to arrive and motioned that they should join him and rest while they could. The trio remained a ways off from the herd still, distance enough to keep the herd from milling about nervously as they had been for the past few days while they were being driven. The caribou seemed relieved enough to also take the chance to graze in relative peace.