The forest was dark and eerily quiet. It made the sharp crunch and crackle of brittle leaves and the sound of small twigs snapping underfoot echo that much louder through the cedar trees as he moved. A result of the forest debris having grown dry beneath the scorching heat of the midday sun, it made his attempts to travel through the area unnoticed practically impossible.
Traipsing quickly, in the hope that he would avoid drawing too much attention from the pack which he could smell nearby, the dark male continued to meander his way through the tall redwoods towards the lagoon, a thick twisted tree root clenched possessively between his jaws.
When Miska finally reached the edge of the lagoon, he took care to place the moss-covered root down safely on the muddy bank, far enough away from the crumbling water's edge that there was no risk of it accidentally falling in. Stepping out into the sun, with his back turned to the shadowy forest, the male moved to lap at the cool, refreshing water, though his ears remained upright and alert for any suspicious rustling that could sound out behind him.