A new thing every day

Citadel was a wolf with astronomically big paws. Not only were they giant in comparison to the rest of his body but they were heavy and thick set as well. An unwieldy and complicated maze to navigate every time he wished to walk. They were rounded and set more like that of a bear than a wolf. He knew, because he had compared it to the Black Bear that followed him around. The size of them set him back from his siblings, a crouch that left him slower and clumsier, and started a growing frustration inside of him. He did not like to be less.

He felt it brewing in his heart, the need to prove himself. To build up his confidence, and show them what he could do. He could see the worried frown his father often threw his way, and it left his insides twisting. He wanted Basilisk to feel nothing but pride in him. He was part of a lineage that went back three generations of strong, defiant wolves. The oldest of his litter. If he couldn’t prove himself, then what was the point of him?

So he made his way to a quiet end of the Col, and attempted to use his nose. The bear that followed him around was beside him, a little older and a little more worldly than he was. He gave some subtle hints for the oldest boy to follow. Leading him to an empty den in the Warren. It was dark here, and he found himself squinting at the shadows as he crouched and waited. He knew there must be a reason the bear had led him here, but the creature had stepped back now. His intention was obvious - this was Citadel’s hunt, and if the young Fatalis wanted to catch something, he had to do it alone. A chance to prove himself. He nodded at the bear, understanding and agreeing. He could do this. He took in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it. He’d practised this, he knew what to do.

He took a couple steps forward and sampled the air. He knew there had to be something here. When he didn’t find the scent immediately, he moved further forward. Searching, seeking. Sniffing. Until at last something caught his sensors. A scent that didn’t mix with the subtle scents of stone and old smoke that frequented the warrens. No, this was something else. Something of flesh and blood.

He crept forward, his claws sheathed so his paws were moderately quiet on the stone. As much as a young pup could manage, at least. The slow pace was easier on his unbalanced body, and he felt his confidence growing as he stalked slowly further in. Hunting the scent. Following it to its source. He tried not to get lost in the squirrely warrens, but wasn’t sure he was succeeding. He glanced back, but couldn’t see the bear. Hopefully he could still follow his companions scent out of here once the hunt was over.

He turned back to his work, refusing to get distracted. He would worry about the maze later. First, the hunt. He stalked forward again, chasing that scent. He still didn’t recognise it, and didn’t know what he was hunting. Which is why he was looking in the wrong places when he suddenly took a step forward, expecting solid footing beneath him. Instead, his paw splashed into the water, and he stood there for a moment. Shocked, and surprised. There was water in the warrens? He narrowed his eyes, trying to pair into the dark depths. Was there giant fish in that water? He wasn’t sure if it was exactly the prey the bear had intended, but he grinned at the thought of emerging from the cave with something so unexpected. The fish in the water had diverted from the sound of his splash, so he withdrew his paw and watched the cavefish. Trying to see them in the dim light, and wait for the moment where they relaxed their guard and swam closer again.

As they got braver, so too did he. Leaning over the pool of water and watching them swim. Some of them were giant! Bigger than the pup was. His eyes were on one of them, and when one approached close enough he pounced. Falling fully into the water as he landed over the fish. Collapsing it onto the surface beneath the water as he landed. But his head was underneath the surface now, and he couldn’t breath. He felt a moment of panic, but he didn’t want to release his prey. He struggled with the slippery creature for a moment, letting out oxygen as he squirmed, trying not to let it slip free. Finally, he remembered his extendable claws and drew them out. Stabbing into the fish. Gaining purchase that allowed him to bring it up to his face, where he bit its neck and at last its thrashing stopped. He pulled his head free of the water and took in a few sharp breaths, before going under again, grabbing the fish and towing it to the edge of the water. Getting it out proved tricky, and when he was holding it free of the water at last, he was exhausted. How was he supposed to lug it all the way out of the cave?

Wc: 900

"Citadel"