09-02-2011, 01:25 PM
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WC: 300+
Cercatori d'Arte, so that was the name of the pack. The warrior, being very dedicated to his patrols, often traveled a few miles outside of Crimson Dreams to get an idea as to who was coming and going close to their home. More than a few times he had caught the sent of this d’Arte pack, always leading to the northern coast. Perhaps one day he would visit it and have a look around. In the recent year the had managed to not travel much outside of Crimson Dreams, mostly because of his pups being born about a year ago. It seemed that the last year he clung to the pack boarders, patrolling and hunting daily but not exploring.
Making a mental reminder that he should really go see the new packs he listened to the darker male. Moose it would be then, “Between the two of us I think we could do it. If you distract him, I’ll take the rear.” It was a plan that seemed to work. One wolf would capture its full attention and then the larger wolf would dig into it’s back, usually causing it to flail and expose it’s neck to the first. It had worked for the last pack hunt so it should work now.
Reexamining the marking he was sure it couldn’t be natural but he wasn’t one to not trust a perfectly nice stranger so instead he spoke with excitement and a bit of a chuckle, “Never seen such a marking in my life.” He had seen the odd wolf with tattoos, even scarred in art, but never such a strange natural marking. Taking his last words as the end of the conversation he motioned to the brown hued male to follow him and began to walk in the direction of the moose.
WC: 300+
Cercatori d'Arte, so that was the name of the pack. The warrior, being very dedicated to his patrols, often traveled a few miles outside of Crimson Dreams to get an idea as to who was coming and going close to their home. More than a few times he had caught the sent of this d’Arte pack, always leading to the northern coast. Perhaps one day he would visit it and have a look around. In the recent year the had managed to not travel much outside of Crimson Dreams, mostly because of his pups being born about a year ago. It seemed that the last year he clung to the pack boarders, patrolling and hunting daily but not exploring.
Making a mental reminder that he should really go see the new packs he listened to the darker male. Moose it would be then, “Between the two of us I think we could do it. If you distract him, I’ll take the rear.” It was a plan that seemed to work. One wolf would capture its full attention and then the larger wolf would dig into it’s back, usually causing it to flail and expose it’s neck to the first. It had worked for the last pack hunt so it should work now.
Reexamining the marking he was sure it couldn’t be natural but he wasn’t one to not trust a perfectly nice stranger so instead he spoke with excitement and a bit of a chuckle, “Never seen such a marking in my life.” He had seen the odd wolf with tattoos, even scarred in art, but never such a strange natural marking. Taking his last words as the end of the conversation he motioned to the brown hued male to follow him and began to walk in the direction of the moose.