His paws rained down hard upon the earth, he’d had the advantage, the element of surprise and as he was about to close on his prey another scent caught in his nostrils. It was fresh, and only a few yards away, but he snorted it off. The buck begged his full attention and he would not disappoint. Just as the flank rose up to meet him the buck slowed, and changed direction, as if shirking off an obstacle. By the time the bi-colored behemoth caught sight of the cream wolfess it was too late. He’d tried to stop, gripping the earth so fiercely his claws tore rivets in the ground, but he collided into her regardless. He felt his paws come out from under him and he was sprawling up and over the female. It all happened so fast by the time his body finally came to a halt his head was still reeling. He lay sprawled on the ground, taking it all in. When he regained some semblance of composure he gave his head a hard shake, and worked on regaining his feet.

The creamy colored female was not forgotten and as soon as the male found his bearings he advanced upon her. Who the hell are you and what do you think you’re doing? He snarled. Never one to forget himself the wolf rose his tail and ears up in dominance. It mattered little that he had not seen this she-wolf before, he knew the pack well enough, if not by name, but by appearance, to know that she was lower ranking than he. Most were, after all. He hadn’t truly meant to be so aggressive, but the hunt was fresh on his mind. He turned his head with the thought, despairing as he watched his prey dissolve into the horizon. His fierce yellow gaze returned to her with greater intensity then, demanding answers.

The large male towered over her, his yellow eyes burning into her form with a sort of suppressed rage. His breathing was rapid and he looked near as winded as she. His hackles rose immediately as she snarled back at him and he tensed, ready correct her bodily if need be. His fangs glinted like pale daggers, not yet tarnished by age. For all his bluster and gruffness he was still a young wolf, not yet two, but he’d lived much in those two short years, more than most twice his age. He knew how cruel the world could be, and those scars would remain with him forever. But he had also accomplished much, especially since joining New Dawn. He had become an Epsilon rather quickly, and retained that title, he’d recently found a mate, defended his pack from threats both great and small. The cream female’s insubordinately incensed him greatly, and he rose his tail even higher.

He was spared the effort of retorting back when the female grew aware of her fault and lowered herself. A whine tugged at his ears and he perked them ever forward as her tongue caressed his chin. He let his breath huff out of him, exhaling the tension from his limbs, and allowed his fur and body to relax some, though his yellow eyes continued to regard her warily. Good to see you came to your senses, although I’d rather it not have been at the expense of what looked to be a very good meal. He was still upset about the buck, and it showed in body and voice. She introduced herself and he was forced to grunt a reply Augustus, he said with the slightest inclination of his head. I’m the Epsilon here, it’s my job to hunt for the pack…but seeing as my prey has escaped, I guess we won’t be eating tonight.

What took place between Terra and Augustus was something that haunted him to this day. It showed him just how much like his father he had become, which both frightened, and angered him. He, however, felt just as betrayed as she. If she would have heeded his warnings to stay away, she would not have found herself within the borders, ravaged by a cougar. A cougar which he had to dispatch, at great cost to himself. Did he wish to kill Terra? Yes. He would not deny it, in fact he had even admitted his intentions to Shandom. She had trespassed, she broke the law, never mind her delirium. He had warned her, and she had refused to hear him. It was as much her fault as his, a conflict of interest. He was doing his duty, to his pack, to his home. These eastern canines, however, would not see it as such. They were softer, in head, and heart; so he believed.

That battle with the cougar was a fierce one, and despite the fact that he was not injured his mate had been. He remembered shouldering her stumbling form all the way to the den entrance. She was weary, her cracked ribs piercing her insides with every breath. She had been so courageous, unyielding to the agony she felt, just so he would not think her weak. She held on so long, so fiercely it was all he could do but to suggest for Zalen to promote her, and to take her to mate.

He would never forget that day where she was able to meet his gaze as an equal. The air was thick with electricity and he shuddered as brown and gold eyes met in a stare that would change everything. It pained him to think his golden girl, childlike in her enthusiasm, was now haggard and gaunt, and reeking of heat-scent. And he was the culprit. His anger at the conflict with Zalen and Titania, though well founded, had driven her to starvation. This was partly the reason he was chasing after such hardy prey, to force its flesh down her throat. But now his prospects were ruined, by an ironically similarly colored female.

He stared her down fiercely, even daring to show a single fang as her eyes regarded his. It wasn’t just a question of insubordination, he also did not like others gazing at his scars. A low growl rumbled a warning in his throat. He had been lenient the first time, but as he lowered his head to align with his spine he non-verbally cautioned her that he would not be so merciful again, she would avert her eyes or face the consequences. His tail followed suit, beginning to arch slightly over his back.

He was stricter than his similarly higher-ranking others, they were too lax, too lenient, but Augustus was a wolf of the cruel arctic north, and a non-Luperci to top it off. Some may even see him as a heathen, far too feral for this more civilized age, but for him, it was simply the way he was raised. His black rimmed ears remained perked and as she spoke he listened, though gave her a few moments time to respond to his unvoiced command. Whether because of his actions or some other reason of her own her eyes finally turned away. He could not turn down her offer, and his head finally lifted and turned towards the tracks from before.

Giving a grunt of approval the behemoth began to relax again. There are moose tracks, he started in his gravelly voice. But the scent has gone cold, although the tracks…there may be more. He was like a storm, raging one moment, calm the next, and his countenance was now contemplative, calculating. It had rained a couple days past and the earth was still moist. The tracks were fresh enough to form a trail, perhaps along that trail they may find hair or scent. It was worth a try, and the prize would mean plenty of food for his brothers and sisters.

The Epsilon gazed at her warily the moments that followed, ready to correct any other breach in etiquette with physical response. His body was tense and his pelt puffed up to accentuate his already massive frame. He held his tail a little higher and stood in silence until he was sure that the gold hued female would not threaten him anymore. He was a wolf of the wild, a living ancestor. His home was far to the north and west, there Luperci were few to none, and his pack was dead set against them, they threatened their way of life, and the sacred balance. Wolves were not meant to walk on two legs like the cruel humans who had once hunted them to near extinction, that was the truth that a young Augustus once grew up to believe. The months that passed gave birth to tragedy and in Lionel’s madness the young tundra wolf lost his brother and closest friend. Another few months later his belief was shaken as he was blamed for unthinkable crimes, betrayal, kin slaying, and allying with the very creatures his pack hated.

All lies, but none the less the young Augustus was chased from the lands he had once known as home. He knew not why they’d turned on him, or what he’d even done to deserve this fate, but one thing was true, his beliefs were now and truly shaken. So, battling hunger, and infection he finally came to rest in Nova Scotia, where he learned of his ignorance and found a home. He even took a Luperci as his mate. Ciara rarely shifted, but he’d no doubt come a long way from where he’d been before.

When she spoke again, he nodded once, pleased with her response. He was always eager for a challenge, and the moose, unspeakable to hunt on his own, would prove a daunting task indeed, but he had another set of paws, fangs, and claws. It was not impossible. Improbable? Yes. But impossible? No. He was a powerful predator, and had faced both cougar and bear, and been victorious.

He eyes searched for the trail and he spoke one word. Follow. He turned his back on her with tail still held high and trotted alongside the tracks. He lowered his nose to the ground, and sniffed in earnest. It was several moments before something struck him. His fur snagged on a low hanging branch, but he shook it off only to catch a whiff of something. He turned lowered his muzzle to confirm, and soon his yellow eyes caught sight of the smallest tuft of hair caught in the very same tangle of growth. He nosed it towards Palaydrian with a grunt. We’re getting closer. He rumbled.

Unlike his companion the northern male was more a creature of endurance. His massive size made him potentially slower than his pack mates, though he was still a well trained and toned predator. Though it made him exceedingly less successful with smaller game, he preferred the thrill of larger animals where his bulk could be used to his advantage. He could bull a deer off its feet with his solid frame, much like he'd knocked Palaydrian off her own.

The scent was now firmly recollected in his powerful nostrils. It grew stronger with his every step causing him to crouch lower and lower to the ground. In a frozen wasteland the behemoth's pelt was invaluable, but amongst the vibrant shades of summer all hope of concealing himself within the grasses was all but lost. His muzzle grazed the ground as he brought himself into a trot huffing in the scent, following the trail. More scents connected with the first and Augustus paused a moment. Their quarry’s scent was still in his nostrils, but his heart gave a leap of excitement when he noted the presence of a bull along the same trail. His yellow eyes glanced quickly to Palaydrian, then small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. What was a young buck compared to a bull moose? His pack would feast for days with this bounty. Would they be able to deliver it?

His eyes glanced over the female, she looked powerful enough in her own right, and seemed confident enough of her own ability. Perhaps bravado on her part? Or she was decidedly self-aware. He would take the latter, and without hesitation diverted his course, inching towards the bull that lay ahead. The male was careful in his approach, keeping to the moist regions of the underbrush where his paws would make the least sound. He said nothing to the Siamese-pelted subord. He was Epsilon and it was his call to make, and right now, he had his sights set on the crowned head of the beast.

When the creature lurked just out of sight he turned to the woman. Show me these skills of yours… He whispered. His voice was husky with excitement and he looked from predator to the direction of their prey. The female’s pelt would serve better here. If she spooked it into running, maybe wounding it in the process he would be free to run it into submission, and make the killing blow.

He nodded once before stalking past her, and weaved through the underbrush as silently as he could afford, making a small diagonal from where they’d stood before. He gave the moose a wide berth and, doing so, was able to stalk past unnoticed. He quickened his pace as he drew further from the beast, finally reaching a full lope. If he could get enough ahead of them, he could force the creature to change course, thus slowing it down enough for Palaydrian to strike once again. His body was still, muscles prepared to spring into action at a moments notice. When he’d gained enough distance he planted himself within the brush, crouching among the leaves, entirely hidden from view. It‘s branches were flimsy things, and would not trip him up when he made his play, making it an effective camouflage. His charcoal ears he kept perked, ready for the smallest sound to signal his ambush.

Augustus lay as still as a statue, watching, waiting with observant eyes. His annoyance from before had all but dissolved, and he was eager to let nature take its course. Their prey was a massive and imposing creature, and its horned head was enough to make any wolf shudder. But Augustus feared little, if nothing at all, as foolish as that may be. The thought of hunting down this king among fauna exhilarated him like nothing else could. He was made for this, and when the sound of trampling hooves and snarling pursuit reached him he leapt out from hiding. In a full sprint both predator and prey came hurtling towards him, but he did not falter. He stood like a living bulwark, planting his feet firmly just a little over shoulder’s width apart, and hunched his upper body, in the off chance that the panicked herbivore could not stop in time.

Fortunately the giant skidded to a halt just before impact, and changed direction. Everything was going according to plan. Augustus wheeled on the bull, teeth grappling at its shoulder. There was a struggle, but soon enough he found purchase. He snarled as he shook viciously, granting his teeth the room to plunge deeper into its flesh. Small trickles of blood seeped over his tongue, warm and wet, urging him into a frenzy of bloodlust. The brown behemoth bellowed and shook its head, trying to reach the white male with its deadly horns. Augustus released his grip before the cruel prongs could pierce him and kept pace at its shoulder, snarling and snapping all the while.

Augustus focused Drin in his peripheral vision, darting his eyes away before the giant could notice her presence. His rack like an array of spears aimed at the northern behemoth, were ever threatening, but Augustus was undeterred. He stalked closer, each step like a lifetime, foretelling the creature's doom. His heart was racing in his chest as adrenaline pumped endlessly into his bloodstream. It eased the burning ache in his muscles, and made each breath count. He stood with hackles raised, fur in full bristle, his dusted tail held high like a banner of triumph. He'd already won. This was just the beginning of the end. His head he kept ever low, protecting his vitals from his equally fearsome prey. The scars on his marred face were twisted, contorting his features grotesquely as he growled low and deadly.

The forest king was vigilant, and tossed his head at the white wolf, snorting a challenge. Augustus retorted with one of his own. Just as his brown adversary was about to turn head in face of Drin the Epsilon came charging towards him, roaring, his jaws open wide. The bull thrashed his head in greeting, but Augustus knew the blow was coming and ducked beneath. His body was large but the bull had put such force behind his thrust it gave the man just enough room to crawl underneath. At the same moment Drin's fangs found purchase deep in its shoulder. With a throaty cry of pain he attempted to rear up in defense against both wolves, but as he did so the back leg gave way and he slumped to the ground. Augustus ripped and tore at the exposed neck like a demon possessed, his feasting riddled with snarls as blood dripped hot and crimson down his chin and neck.

In the midst of his ravaging strike he did not see the heavy crowned head as it whipped down to thrash at him. The strike was weak, and Augustus's vitals were spared by his position, but a single prong poked into the flesh of his side. His snarl turned into a yelp of shock and pain, but his eyes blazed and he continued the assault. Even weakened the bull's antlers had parted flesh. The behemoth's side wept bloody tears, staining his dusted pelt, but there was too much adrenaline in his system for it to be anything more than the sting of a bee.

There was an awful gurgling noise and terror filled the king's eyes. A jet of crimsom soaked the wolf's face in blood as the moose's life essence poured out of him. It tried to scream, tried to tear away from the mercilous fangs, but only deepened the wound, and the only sound was the babble of its blood like a fountain. Augustus's snarl was lost in the current, but his tail wagged behind him. A death rattle sounded and mere moments later, it was done. The arctic male loosed his fangs and withdrew. The beast had been fellled, his task was complete.

The climax reached the behemoth was allowed to feel pain and as he backed away he began to pant with the effort. He lay himself down, gazing over at his sister with a smile on his bloodied face. His side was slick with blood, but it had been a glancing blow. No organs had suffered injury. He gazed on the carcass, his tail wagging fiercely. A howl of bloody satisfaction soared skyward and when his face fell he glanced at his sister with pride.