Gambit

The first hint that something was wrong was the chill. It wasn't the cold of the late winter air, crisp and biting as it was, but a deeper chill that seemed to settle into Xairo's bones. The young pup's green eyes narrowed against the glare off the snow, his gaze darting around the expanse of Polar Sound. He could hear his heartbeat thumping loud in his ears, drowning out the natural symphony of the taiga.

His instincts screamed at him to run, to hide, but Xairo refused to yield. With a deep breath, he pushed away from the cover of the short tundra grasses and trotted out into the open, his stubby horns glinting under the pale moonlight. The fresh snow beneath his paws muffled the sound of his approach, allowing Xairo to move with some semblance of stealth. But he knew that if it were another predator stalking him, it would be nearly impossible to stay hidden. The icy landscape of Polar Sound betrayed any foreign movement and concealed little, its vast openness a double-edged sword of visibility and vulnerability.

He couldn’t have anticipated running into his brother out here. Technically they should have been at home- not too far from the den at the most. He wanted to call out, to get his brother’s attention. But his better judgment had him remain silent. As calmly as he could muster, Xairo approached his brother head on- remaining in cover as long as he could. And when he got close enough, he drew his breath to speak. “Ludo” Xairo muttered under his breath. “I think there is something close …” Without knowing how else to describe it.

698 / 1500 words
"Xairo Saxe"