Jäger

In the stillness of the warm summer forest, the lanky crimson and black wolf prowled silently over a bed of fallen pine needles and leaves. Despite his size, his footsteps barely made a sound more than a gentle rustle of the foliage. Cobalt eyes as cold as glacial ice peered out at his surroundings, scanning for his quarry. This would be his first time claiming a kill of his own without the aid of his parents or pack mates. Together, they had all taken down caribou and other large prey, but this kill would be all his own. This was how Saracyn would stake his name in the annals of history as a true hunter. The apex predator paused his advance, tilting his red-furred snout to the air and drawing in deep breaths to sample the scents around him. He could smell a plethora of forest-dwelling critters. Squirrels, chipmunks, badgers, porcupines, all the usual fare of the northern forests and tundras. But what enticed him today was the smell of the mountainous goats that came down from the island's peaks to feed in the shade during the hottest parts of the day.

Above his head, Saracyn watched as the two dark forms of his avian companions swooped down through the thicket of coniferous trees, zipping in and out between them in search of prey for him. He drew in another deep breath through his nares, focusing in on the scent of the goats and turning in the direction the smell was wafting from. There was scarcely any wind today, which would mean he would need to plan his approach carefully lest he be detected by an attentive goat. Large paws crunched through the leaves and grass once more, avoiding any noticeable sticks or pinecones along the way to prevent giving away his approach. Saracyn moved like shadow and death through the woods; silent, methodical, smooth as a snake on the earth. He ducked beneath a fallen tree limb and slunk along a row of shrubbery. The scent of his prey was getting stronger, and he was getting closer. From somewhere overhead, he heard Veior let out a screech, alerting him to his proximity to the goat herd. A grin crept across Sara's lips. He was nearly there.

Pushing though the shrubbery to another dense cluster of foliage, Saracyn spotted them. It was a small herd of the mammals, no more than a half dozen. One male, a females, and four kids. The youngling wolf was practically drooling while he eyed them. Though he really wanted to test himself and go for the ram, he knew better and decided one of the kids would be his target today. In the sky above, Saracyn saw Veior and Vindr gliding in circles above the clearing, keeping a watchful eye on the goat herd and waiting for their master to come unleash bloody horror on the unsuspecting family. The almost yearling kept his body low behind the brush, peering through gaps in the branches and leaves to spy the family of goats while they grazed about the clearing. Cold eyes followed the four kids, watching as one began to meander closer to his ambush spot, blissfully unaware of the predator lurking just behind.

Pink tongue flicked anxiously over his lips while Saracyn watched the small goat wander just a bit too close. The kid came almost right up to the brush, nibbling on some summer grass while its parents idled around the opposite end of the clearing. Red lips peeled away from jagged shark-like fangs. The poor cretin. One step closer and... The kid never even saw the wolf, never saw the jaws lunge out at it from the bushes, never heard the snarl or felt the snapping of its fragile bones. All it knew was life, and then death. Saracyn saw it all. He burst through the foliage and snatched the goat's head up in his powerful jaws, crunching down on its skull with all his might. He felt the bone pop and turn to mush, tasting blood and gray matter while he crushed the goat's head in a macabre display. The goat's body instantly went limp, the life leaving its hollow shell before the creature even knew what happened. It was merciful in some regards—but not to its terrified parents, which were already bleating for their surviving children to flee. Saracyn dropped the limp and massacred body to the ground, licking the blood from his lips while he eyes the fleeing goats.

The ram stood off against Sara for a moment while its family felt, snorting and kicking at the ground, looking as if ready to charge the predator that had killed its child. The wolf grinned, teeth stained dark red, and flexed his wrist to extend the serrated blade from his bracer. The ram eyed the dagger, eyed the corpse of its deceased offspring, and then turned tail and ran with another bleat. A dark laugh erupted from within Saracyn, followed by a triumphant howl that echoed through the forests and across the island. This was his terrain and he was the apex predator of these lands!

"Saracyn Mendacium"