{WC: 224}
As two other wolves approached, Rook watched them quietly for a few moments before creeping forward with his body low to the ground. He was quick to note the exchange of dominant and submissive postures of his pack mates and settled on rendering himself as a respectful but cautious pack member. He stood a few steps behind the group after catching Barrett’s gesture and realizing that a rather large moose stood nearby. His fur stood on end and his breath caught in his chest; through the hues of grayish yellows and tans that made up the hunting party’s forest-like surroundings, he had failed to see the moose there – perhaps, he should have paid more attention... The muscles in his limbs tensed but, as one by one, the hunting party began to charge and he was quick to follow suit.
Being light on his feet was a skill Rook loved about his lanky build and he easily weaved through the orchard after Leonard, one of the two other dark-pelted wolves he had just met. Every now and then his eyes darted over to the hoofed creature that had started to turn tail, but he did not stray from the dark wolf’s path that he was following. Instead, he waited for some sort of signal or an opportunity to strike and veer the victim toward them.
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