A Toast To The Future

Regulus padded carefully after the injured animal he was tracking. It was an elk, an old bull that had lagged behind the rest of his bachelor herd after a scuffle with a younger bull. Since moving the family to a safer location for the time being, Regulus had embarked on this hunt. His goal was to herd the beast southward, toward his family, if possible. If he wasn’t successful, he’d have to leave this old patriarch to a slow, painful death from an infected gore wound on the flank. Regulus knew better than to try taking an on his own. Even an injured bull was dangerous. This was a chance to clear his head, and get the frustration out, without getting into a fight he might be unable to win. Thus far, the animal was proving to be little trouble. All Regulus had to do was keep at a distance that wouldn’t prod the beast into either flight or fight mode, but would keep the bull moving, if only to attempt escaping the bothersome presence of the overlarge, bright red wolf quietly hounding him.

This food would be a boon to the family. If he could just bring it down. The antlers on this thing could probably go right through him. There was the problem of getting the beast past the bastards infesting their home, but perhaps if he announced himself at Sonticus’ borders, he could be allowed to pass through, and maybe even get some help bringing the elk down.