There was nothing more exhilarating than the thrill of the hunt, to feel the life seep out of the body as you grasped it in your teeth and claws. It went entirely limp, no more struggling, as if it knew its time had come. The blood was a welcome sensation in his mouth making him slaver and his belly rumble. He could not contain his excitement and when she called them forth, he raised his muzzle, but only after her initial call. It was not a summoning, but an expelling of pure joy, a release of the excess energy. His limbs were loose and aching, just as he liked, his muzzle drenched in gore. He returned her affection before turning to the carcass with an idle lick of his lips.
It lay before them beaten and broken with the marks of their fangs and claws, the instruments of the wild wolf. It just felt right. He was happy here, happier than he ever thought he could be and his eyes soon found themselves trailing to Ciara. She had been the perfect pupil, following his commands as he relayed them, and he was terribly impressed. He looked eagerly towards the horizon, waiting for his brothers and sisters to join them, for them to see what they had killed for them, and to share in their joy. He also looked for his Alpha, he wanted him to see just how well Ciara had done, and to tell him that he had led her to this end, but not only that. She had done all that was asked of her and more, he felt Zalen should know. She was one of the newest members, but had already integrated herself into their very heart, and maybe, just maybe into his own. He puffed up with pride as she thanked him and revealed that she thought of no other for this task. Don't mention it, there is nothing better than the hunt, and I was glad to have you beside me.
He couldn’t help but see her differently now. She wasn’t just a youngling trying to find her way. She was an adult wolf, coming into her own and showing the will and drive to excel and succeed at her endeavors. Her body was lithe and well formed, her eyes shining with youth and health. She was not exotic, that was true, not to most, at least. He’d grown up in a pack of mostly black and white wolves, her mottled hue tended to be rarer on tundra where he’d come from. He marveled at it now, how well she blended in with the decaying foliage of the fall and winter, giving her, in the other seasons at least, a greater advantage than his own. He looked forward to hunting alongside her again, in fact, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do, and waited in the hope that she would bring it up herself. In the meantime however he turned to the doe and began to feed. His teeth broke the flesh of its lower belly as steam arose into the wintry air. Instead of feasting there he ripped out a choice piece and approached Ciara, dropping it at her paws. He said nothing, but wagged his tail and returned to attend to the carcass.
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