Who said food can't also be foe?

Wylan was very excited to spend some time with Wynter. In truth, he felt his family slipping through his paws, and it terrified him. Their dad had withdrawn into himself when their mother had left, oleander had moved out of the treehouse he had shared with Wynter. He hadn’t really spent much time lately with his other siblings, so he grasped this chance in all paws and ran with it.

He trotted with Wynter into the Northern territories, grateful that the cold had started to relent in the face of Spring. He followed her to the Gorge, realising also that he hadn’t spent any time here. He’d been to the Wall, and the Spout, but that was about it for the Northern territories.

They were making their way through the Gorge, and the wind at the entry left no room for talking. But once they had pushed past that, they entered a lusher, green meadow. In that meadow was a moose. It was the second time he had ever seen one, and the first he had been one of many hunters striving to take it down. He looked up at the tall beast, and was about to suggest something similar to his sister.

Too late! It had noticed them. Clearly in an aggressive mood, the moose bellowed and charged at them. Wylan and Wynter both dived out of the way in different directions, separating from each other. “Fight or run!?” he called out to his sister over the angry moose.

WC: 252
Total: 635


"Wylan Fatalis"