not a grocery store rotisserie chicken to be found

He was getting the hang of this living in the north business. Once accustomed to humid, sticky, and wet swamps, Wilder now sported a slightly thicker coat and rougher paw pads to combat the icy and snow. While still wet, but now cold and dry. At first, he missed it, but as the days passed, he found himself dreaming about it less and less. Unlike the jungles and swamps of southern Boreas, there weren’t as many predators to get in his way up here. North of the col, he could hunt without so much as a glance around him. Just him and his prey. Had he found his purpose?

Purpose was, in Wilder’s mind, a bit silly. He was a wolf after all and aside from the whole procreating business that his absent parents had spouted off to him about, he didn’t really think there would be a purpose other than to survive. Surviving was indeed one thing he could do. Though he’s young, he’s proficient. Even in the snow and icy, he’s figured out how to walk quietly, near silent toward his prey. Plus having a brown and green coat was pretty handy in keeping himself blended in unlike the rest of the colorful wolves that he now lived with.

His mind wanders to Tethys for a moment, wondering if he should have asked her to join him. Would she have wanted to come along and hunt some more birds? A tasty, little snack that his vermilion gaze now lingers on. Silly, no. Wilder thinks to himself as he starts, hair rising and ears folding back as the geyser nearby shoots up into the air. Well, the birds closer to the steaming spout of hell water would definitely not be the good choice. Instead, his focus turns to the larger outer pools of melted ice water where they mill about, only slightly perturbed by the loud hissing and shouting of the exploding water.

Just as he’s about to begin heading over there, he notices another wolf. His paws stop, bright red eyes watching as she too watches the birds that he’s decided were the target for today. Maybe she could use some help? Wilder questions, but doesn’t hesitate for long. Taking long, quiet strides over to her, he lets out a chuff, a greeting to alert her of his presence so he doesn’t spook her into smacking or biting him. Once settled at her side, he turns his muzzle toward her so that he can be heard over the geyser. “Need some help?” Wilder questions, playful and friendly smirk lighting his charcoal lips as his tail gives a few wags.