Kinow slowed as the scent grew stronger. There was no denying it now. Whatever,
whoever, this was, it didn't belong. His fur bristled as another smell joined in--blood. Whose, he didn't know and, quite frankly, he was scared to find out. He slunk close to the ground, delicate paws treading the ground as he carefully slunk further towards the invader.
A flash of dark fur made him freeze, a soft growl rumbling in the base of his throat. He forced it down, his ears flat against his head, and moved forward to get a clearer view. Sure enough, barely a few feet away, crouched a dark wolf. A she-wolf, he decided after a quick sniff. She was a little bigger than Kinow, with black fur dappled with lighter shades. Lying limp before her was the corpse of a deer.
His deer. Instinct screamed at Kinow to turn back. To run as fast as he could and alert the warriors. To just leave before regrets were made. Scandalized pride, however, forced that away.
Kinow slowly rose and quietly approached the she-wolf from the back. A low growl rumbled in his throat, his red fur bristling in a vain attempt to appear larger. He stopped a few feet away, body tense and ready. "You've got some nerve," he growled as he took a step forward, "to steal from my pack."
Rymen slipped out of his den, a yawn stretching his large. His eyes bright eyes, still a bit hazed from what little rest he received after the nightly patrol, flickered idly around camp. The slumbers of camp were slowly fading, a few wolves milling around the central clearing. Luna, the wolf with ruby eyes; Robyn, the cheery hopeful that brought smiles her way; Kinow, the sharp tongued youth eagerly dashing out of camp; Angelwing, his most trusted friend and leader, ever watching, ever stoic. He smiled and stretched, dipping his head in greeting towards them. The pack these days was dwindling--a fact he would never dare say outright in the presence of others--so when he saw activity, he always took it as a sign from the spirits that perhaps there was hope after all.
He padded over to join him, a coy gleam in his eyes. "Good morning," he greeted cheerily, sending a cheeky smile towards his companions. "You're looking beautiful this morning." Rymen lay beside Angelwing, nodding towards Luna respectfully. He was careful with his usual demeanor around her for fear of coming off as insensitive or a fool, but he was far from avoiding her. If anything, he empathized with her. The loss of littermates was one he knew well. Too well. It had been years since the flood, the memories of his family washed away in the river of time. What he did recall--the soft fur, the warmth of his mother's tongue, the excitement whenever they could explore--he could never let go. That he could never forget. Rymen stretched away the last bits of sleep from his mind. So, what's today's plans?"
He tensed as Luna suddenly growled, his nonchalant attitude sharpening in attentiveness. His eyes darted around, the fur along his back bristling. "What? What's wrong?"