Of Moose and Men

Kolt tumbled to the side as - - Ballad collided with him, the two brothers rolling in a tangle of fur and limbs. Boy, was he glad to see Ballad. His brother seemed to have impeccable timing. The moose's charge missed them by mere inches, its heavy hooves pounding the earth where Kolt had stood just moments before. Scrambling to his feet, Kolt shook the dirt from his coat, his heart still racing from the close call. He glanced at Ballad, a flash of gratitude in his blue eyes. "Thanks," he panted, before turning his attention back to the moose.

The beast had wheeled around, snorting and pawing the ground in frustration. Its dark eyes gleamed with a wild anger as it faced the two wolves, clearly not deterred by the failed charge. Squaring his shoulders, Kolt stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ballad. Despite the danger, a part of him thrilled at the challenge. He knew they couldn't outrun the moose - their only chance was to stand their ground and fight. "We need to drive it off," Kolt said, his voice low and steady. "Go for the flanks, try to confuse it. I'll keep its attention."

With that, he lunged forward, a fierce snarl ripping from his throat. The beast snorted, antlers lowering to meet Kolt's charge head-on. But Kolt was nimble, dodging to the side at the last moment. His jaws snapped at the moose's shoulder, teeth sinking into thick hide before he danced away again.

"Kolt Carpathius"