Fancy meeting you here

Once the wolves had crept their way down upon the herd, Alastor broke away from Manea and Poe, quietly hushing Saracyn as they snuck up into position. He saw a blur of purple from Manea as she moved closer upon their kill. Poe, wearing colors strikingly similar to his, seemed to vanish almost entirely. The world was quiet and still for a long while. Nothing moved, save for the caribou while it grazed blissfully unaware of the mortal danger it was in. Alastor focused his attention entirely on the cow, paws flexing and muscles tensed to spring into action for the kill. They waited... They waited... Then, like an explosion, Poe burst out from the underbrush and tackled the caribou, knocking it off its hooves. Manea was upon it like a bolt of purple lightning, grabbing the squealing herbivore by its neck and helping Poe keep it pinned.

Alastor wasted no time once the caribou was down and restrained. "Hold on tight!" he said to Saracyn, then ran into the clearing with a snarl. All at once, Alastor leaped through the air to come down on top of the flailing caribou, all three wolves now holding it down while Alastor bared sharp teeth in parted jaws that came down to snap shut over the animal's throat. While ordinarily he would have gone for some more grotesque theatrics in his kills, this one was meant to be efficient. He wanted the animal dead fast so he wouldn't have to worry about his very tiny son getting hurt, who was already sliding off his back and snarling to dig little puppy teeth into the dying caribou's neck near where one of Manea's paws gripped it.

A proud grin formed on Alastor's stretched mouth while he crushed the caribou's throat, tasting the saccharin sweetness of its fresh blood spilling down his throat and over his tongue. Alastor couldn't resist the muffled primal groan that left him nor the shudder of pleasure it brought him feeling the animal's struggles get weaker with each spurt of blood it filled his mouth with. Unable to breathe, unable to move or escape, the caribou's movements quickly began to die away along with the animal until it was lying still, just another carcass for the wolves to devour. Alastor released the prey animal's neck, blood dripping from his teeth and lips, and stared with pride at his son who was still biting and tearing away at the body. "Well done, Sara! It's definitely dead now!" he said with a jovial laugh, using a massive paw to tousle the boy's fluffy head.


"Alastor"