The brute knew it had been at least a week since the bear had finally died of thirst and exhaustion in it's sleep, or perhaps it had succumbed to the infection Zev had helped along with well timed bites and tears into it's flesh. What ever the cause it was far to easy a death for it as far as Zev was concerned, he had hoped he'd be the one to steal the last of it's life and lay it bare to the sun gods. Loathsome bear, a waste of effort as far as he was concerned.
It wasn't until he recognized the scent of his long forgotten home the he realized he was back to where he had started from, he knew he'd have to find his little bascha and be damned if she needed more working over; This bear had cost him to much if that were the case.
Since the greedy beast died of it's own accord he had taken the time to offer it's blood to the moon gods. They were not as picky as the sun god but they were weaker; a pale reflection of the suns gods glory.
Now though; there was much meat left. The moon gods did not care for flesh so Zev could do as he pleased with it. And after having eaten his fill over the last week he had watched the coming and goings of the local wolves and decided he should find himself a pack, A front for his den, a place to call his own, a place to grow his herbs and contemplate his sacrifices as needed.
Most wolves didn’t mind ignoring his eccentricities as long as he offered his healing skills in exchange. And it was with this in mind that the large well fed brute hauled an entire bear haunch to the borders of the nearest pack which just happened to be this one… He lay the large portion of meat upon the ground and howled a greeting long and pronounced. He was not so close to the boarders to warrant attack but nor was he far enough away that one would have to guess his intent. Damned if he wasn’t going to have to find Oaktree Bend and dig up his old herb garden and transport eventually.
Slowly Zev sat as regally as he could despite his disheveled appearance and stared intently into the pack land incessantly and softly whisper chanting a mantra in a foreign tongue, one that he’d abruptly stop speaking the moment a wolf made themselves know to him.