oh the misery

Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest choice for the colossal beast of a wolf to travel back into the woods. Not when he was still recovering from his fight with the Polar bear, but he wasn’t willing to leave behind the coat. It would serve his pack well over the bitter winter. Ollie and Iggy had skinned it, and taken the meat. So no predators would have seen it as a worthy meal. For this reason alone, he was able to recover it with minimal damage, despite being left in the woods for a few days.

He found the spot at last where he and the beast had fought. Picking it up with his teeth, he tossed it over his shoulders. Letting it settle, unsecured across his back. His gait careful, the injured wolf turned to make the trip home once more. He was passing by the creek that ran down towards his territory when the scent of another wolf told him he wasn’t alone.

Cautious and injured, he slowed his gait, emerging from the woods slowly to find the scrawny young slip of a wolf. The depressing remains of her catch on the bank beside her as she drank. She was hardly a threat to the Warlord. He settled on stiff legs with a grimace, his stitches pulling as the raw coat slid a little around his shoulders. “I haven’t caught your scent in these woods before.”


"Basilisk"