Hati really knew very little about child-rearing and parenthood, as he still felt more like a child himself than an adult. The youngest pups he'd seen were Niro and Amaranth's brood, his niece Tasha and nephew Heiro -- and their family was rather private, living off away from the hotel and the rest of the pack, so he hadn't seen much of them except for their visits. It made him very curious, testing the den's air with his nose to try and learn something about the newborns without bothering any of them. Terra was curled protectively around them, so he could not see much, but there were two distinct scents intermingled with hers. His tail couldn't stop waving behind him, and there was a placid, easygoing smile spreading across his features. Something about the scene before him made him feel peaceful and forget about his troubles. They seemed so cozy, even if they were living in a hole in the ground. Some canines preferred life that way, but it was the first time Hati could see that it might be just as valid as his civilized preference for an actual house.
Terra greeted him with a joke, and Hati let his ears fall back apologetically, realizing he had been a little obtuse. "I didn't think that at all, honestly," he assured her, shuffling his paws awkwardly. "I never heard you had a mate or anything, so I just didn't know you wanted to be a mother." Wait, that might be offensive. Hati winced, realizing she must be alone here if she had called for help. He was still naive to the world, and assumed that only a mated pair would have a litter. "Erm, I'll find some food for you, be right back," he stammered quickly, growing flustered by his eagerness to keep her happy. He didn't perceive that the scent of hormones heavy in the air reminded him of his own mother, and the halcyon days of life before thought or memory. He withdrew his face from the den entrance and darted along the stream, nose to the ground.
He had no plan of action, but felt rushed to return to Terra quickly. For a moment he considered running all the way back to his house and carrying cooked food from the kitchen, but that was ridiculous when they were out in the wilderness like this. He needed to hunt, which was a skill he rarely exercised and was not particularly confident about. He swerved from the stream and bounded into the tall grass, dark fur a stark contrast to the golden brown stalks around him. His questing nose picked up small trails, those of mice or voles, but they weren't enough; Terra deserved something rich and filling, to keep her strength up. He frowned, pale eyes peering above the grass as he found a well-gnawed stump to clamor atop. He was in a hurry, he didn't want to wait to ambush something. He had never bothered to practice survival skills like tracking and hunting, because he was born into the lap of luxury and could afford to focus on reading, writing, and more advanced learning. Now he was regretting his lack of physical prowess.
As he grew more desperate, his swiveling ears caught the sound of nearby gnawing. Pale eyes scanned the area, until he spotted it -- a dark furry hump at the base of a tree, busily stripping away the bark. It was a beaver! Immediately the wolfdog tensed, sinking below the grass to hide himself. The stream must be connected to a beaver pond, and this one had left the safety of the water to feed. It was perfect, big and plump, and it might even impress Terra if he could bring it back to her. It was rather large, with those wicked teeth and muscular tail... He had to do this, no use worrying. Calmly he stalked forward, pausing whenever he could no longer hear the chewing noises, edging closer when they started up again. He drew up behind a tree, his prey obliviously gnawing nearby. His heart was pounding with anticipation as he flattened himself against the ground, readying his haunches for the pounce. Ready... set... GO!
Hati flew forward, slamming his paws into the fat beaver as they collided. Instead of being stunned, the rodent squealed in terror and rage, squirming and scratching at his forelegs and underbelly. Yelping, Hati pulled back in time to be slapped by the beaver's powerful tail, a surprisingly fierce blow. A frustrated growl bubbled from his lips, and he lunged in with teeth bared, latching onto a furry roll of neckfat. The rodent lurched and kicked wildly in his grip, struggling noisily as Hati snarled at it, planting his paws firmly on the ground to hold it in place. It was too heavy for him to lift and shake, the death roll that his kind used for smaller prey, and it was too quick for him to try to reposition his jaws on its neck to throttle its windpipe. Hackles bristling from the excitement of the struggle, Hati clawed at its sides, trying to weaken it. It wriggled away from his paws, trying to roll over and wrest away from his grip on its scruff. That became its fatal error. Hati released his jaws and pounced, pinning its fat body with his weight and sinking his fangs into its exposed belly. It gnashed its teeth helplessly as the beady black eyes bulged, but its throes lessened and it finally went limp.
Hati was panting heavily, feeling the sting of small scratches in many places. As he hesitantly withdrew his muzzle from the fresh kill, he realized his face must be stained with blood, war paint from his hard earned victory. It clashed with his fastidious nature, his desire to always appear clean and dignified, but he didn't have the time to groom himself now. This prize needed to be delivered while it was still warm, a goodwill gift to the new mother. He placed his jaws delicately around the beaver's round skull and began the arduous task of dragging it back to the den. It was half his size and very dense, packed with muscle and fat from years of good living. He was quite proud that he had managed a successful hunt, although a part of him was disturbed by the brutality he had found within himself. He was exhausted by the effort it took to haul the carcass to the stream, and by the time the small den entrance came into view, he was ready to collapse. He released his hold on the beaver and wheezed, the closest sound to a bark he could muster. He really wasn't built for this sort of labor...
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