Ethereal Eclipse (forest), around sunset. 
Maybe someone with tips on hunting or cooking? Or someone less respectable who tries to steal his food? Whatever floats your boat!
Word Count → 711
Hati was not accustomed to the world outside of his birthpack, and he had been very hesitant to cross the borders even once, knowing how dangerous it could be. Loners were degenerates in his eyes, violent or otherwise unfit for pack society. Hati would not stray far, especially since this time he did not have his horse with him. All he carried was the silver necklace around his throat, lost in the thick slate-grey fur of his ruff. He was loping on all fours, lean and low to the ground, plumed tail curled over his back. The wild rodents were preparing for the colder months, fattening up on what they could find and storing what they could not eat right away. He was done with his daily chores at the stables, so this excursion was a hunting trip. The air was crisp, stinging his nostrils as he traced each scent, disregarding the little voles and lemmings; he did not want a quick meal, he had traveled this far for a purpose. He wanted to collect a variety of wild game without the pressure of encountering his packmates' criticism. He could then carry his prizes home as his secret, for the skill he decided he wanted to learn after being inspired by his eldest sibling.
Red and gold leaves carpeted the ground, rustling as creatures rooted around for sustenance. Hati pinpointed the one he was seeking, pale eyes riveted on the furry hump. Paws moved slowly, ears perked as he stalked closer to the unsuspecting prey... The wolfdog pounced, landing his weight on the unfortunate groundhog. It thrashed and squealed beneath his paws, but his narrow jaws quickly closed around the blunt head, shaking it sharply to break the neck. It was over in a flash, and he thought back to the fierce battle he had fought against the giant beaver, and all the effort it had taken him to complete the kill for Terra and her newborn sons. His inexperience at hunting had been embarrassing - he was an adult, after all, and could barely feed himself - and he had done a little practicing since then.
Still, he had not had the motivation to try hard until... well, until his mother passed away. She used to love cooking, for pack functions or simply for her large family every evening, who would provide the meat for her to dress and roast. Hati had never contributed to the ritual, and now he was guilty and lost and struggling for a way to carry on her memory. He spoke her French, read her books, and rode her horse, and now he would learn to cook like her. The dark-furred wolfdog padded through the trees with the limp groundhog between his jaws. It was still warm when he reached his cache, hidden in the hollow of a stump. He laid it neatly beside the bodies of his earlier successes, a skinny young rabbit and two red squirrels. It wasn't much, but it was more than he had ever caught in one day before. Most of them got away from him. And he ignored birds, knowing his brother-in-law was a falconer with strong convictions.
Hati sank into the leaves to rest, panting from the exertion. His breath appeared crystallized before him, visible in the cold air. He was fitter than he used to be, but still lacked endurance. He was also without the sheer power necessary for big game, so he needed to practice like this. When he got them home, they would be skinned and pieced in the kitchen in the dead of night, so that no one would stumble in on his clumsy attempts to mimic Ayita and Amaranth. There were books in the house that mentioned recipes, and while he did not know what half of the ingredients were, he suddenly felt like he had to take on a new project. The house was dismal at times, and Hati was desperate for a distraction. Usually he turned to the stables and the horses he loved, but sometimes seeing Alder made him hurt in a strange way, and he needed a break from that too. Quietly he began licking the traces of blood from his muzzle, cleaning the pale fur of its stains.
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