A feast to be had

Quote:Being hungry was something that the young male had learned to numb himself to. Feeding both he and his sister had become something of a challenge. They had never learned to hunt for themselves, and had relied on instinct to get as good as they had gotten. Practice and luck, as well as the young wolves being small enough to live on hares and other rodents and have a substantial diet, were probably the only reason that they had lived so long.


He should have been drawn in by the hunt, by the dark female chasing after the buck while winter was so near. He should have been drawn into a begging state, should have tucked his tail and ears and approached the woman with caution, hoping that she would leave something of her kill for he and the scavengers that littered the area. And yet instead he was there for a single reason - the words she had spoken. They were familiar and reminded him of warmer times, when he and his siblings had a home.


The curse met his ears, and immediately he was curious, drawn toward the vixen - and in silence he watched her. She was strong, stronger than he had ever seen in motion, for a moment it took his breath away. Who was this dark lupine? This woman was nothing like the mother that lingered in his memories, and yet he was perplexed. The young male licked his jowls, his stomach giving a growl beneath him - although he ignored hunger, he was not immune to it. The blood being spilled hung around the area, and the young male realized that he was salivating.


"Vous faites regard de la chasse comme un art." He said quietly, waiting until the animal had stopped thrashing to speak. His voice was quiet, a gentle unused murmur, but more than loud enough for the orchid eyed woman to hear. The male had reached his full height of thirty three inches, but was slim, almost too thin after a roguish life from such a young age.