Road snacks

As much as he liked it out here, Alastor knew their time in the prairies was coming to an end soon. He and Manea had been out scouting for a permanent home for themselves and a location to start their pack before they ran some reconnaissance on the northern pack Venom had turned their attention towards. With their pups birthed, weaned, and old enough to walk the world, the day for their move was fast approaching. He'd helped Manea gather supplies to craft her cart and gave Irilyth protection while she collected an abundance of herbs from the nearby valleys to supplement them on their journey. But food was one thing they always seemed to be in short supply of. With five hungry mouths to feed now, Alastor and Manea had been busier than ever with their hunts, more out of necessity than sport. He didn't mind though; they had to keep their beautiful stars fed, after all!

Today was dedicated to gathering as much fresh meat as they could get. That meant another large hunting trip, one Alastor was all too happy to participate in. He and his wife stalked along the prairie, following the scent of a pronghorn herd until they stopped the antelope-like creatures milling about on the plains. He felt Manea brush his side and turned so obsidian eyes met aqua, seeing the knowing grin on her face and understanding immediately her intentions before she even began to stalk off on her own. The two apex predators had become so in tune and efficient with their hunting methods that no words needed to be exchanged. They simply needed to hunt.

Alastor took to the opposite direction, creeping virtually silently through the tall grasses towards the herd. He moved like a living shadow, silent and unnoticed by the herbivores while he got closer... closer... closer still... Once he got into position, he watched the opposite side of the herd for any flashes of purple to tip him off where Manea was. He didn't notice her yet, but he did notice one juvenile pronghorn getting a little too close. The prey animal was walking right up to him, intent to eat the grass he was hiding behind. Alastor tensed, mentally pleading the stupid little creature to back off. It did not. Once it was right up on him, Alastor spring with a snarl, his large jaws able to wrap entirely around the young pronghorn's head from the sides so as to avoid its horns. The pronghorn blared in terror, alerting the herd just in time for them to watch Alastor's powerful jaws snap shut, crushing bone and flesh and brains in one fell swoop. The small pronghorn collapsed dead, and Alastor rose to his full intimidating height, blood and gray matter dripping from his muzzle. He snarled, and the pronghorns turned to gallop away—headed straight for Manea.


"Alastor"