The northern wilds carried their biting chill, a sharp sort of discomfort that seeped into his hide, but he ignored the discomfort as he trudged along. Redrum moved haltingly through the bleak landscape, his golden eyes sweeping over the snow-laden terrain. His blood-red coat stood out like a wound against the paleness of the frozen expanse, a target if ever there was one. A calling card, if you will. His muscles twitched sporadically, each involuntary spasm a maddening reminder of his body’s rebellion—a betrayal etched into his every movement. His imperfections.

He paused atop a gentle rise, his long ears swiveling to catch the faintest sounds carried by the wind. The world stretched hollow and still, the silence broken only by the occasional caw of a raven overhead. His breath escaped in small, fleeting clouds, vanishing into the cold air as he scanned the desolation below. It was all pine trees and scarce brush, nothing he could use for cover should he need it. His long legs sank into the fresh snow, each step at an uneven pace as he moved. He’d been here before—Insomnia had raided these territories, striking at the Syndicate pack nearby. He could still picture the monochromatic woman with her mocking half-smile, the one who left a scar carved across his cheek. A phantom pain flickered in his memory, his tongue moving to caress the inner wall of his mouth where the flesh was a raggedly healed slice. Maybe he’d run into her again. Give her a taste of her own medicine.

Redrum’s nostrils flared as he sniffed the air, his head tilting in thought. The sharp sting of cold dominated, but beneath it lingered something faint—prey, perhaps, or the trace of another wolf wandering. His predator’s instinct pulled taut within, though he forced himself to slow. His prowl brought the bulk of his mass lower to the ground as he moved in an uneven semicircle, advancing cautiously, his paws breaking through the crust of snow that clung stubbornly to his vermillion fur.

His teeth clicked together, his jaw twitching with growing frustration. Golden eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze scanned, searching for something—anything—that would shatter the stillness.


"Murder"

White paws silently stalk around a massive tree trunk. Her dark red fur flecked with embers brushed against the rosy wood bark. She walked around the massive trunks, wondering how they could possibly grow to this size. Seeking to fully understand her world and her place in it. Could they be ancient or fast-growing? Is she merely a blip in their massive existence? Small, inconsequential, a fly hovering over a carcass. Would they be here when she takes on the world? Or would they remain immobile, indifferent, endlessly reaching the sky making her effect on this land inconsequential at best? Humbling.

She wound her way around another massive trunk and under a gargantuan root as if it were an elegant gateway between monstrous plants. As she entered the new realm the puppy paused. Dark ears shifted this way and that to catch what whisper had attempted to allude her. The air was winding through the trees at a leisurely pace and no scent was carried to her nose quite yet. That meant someone was downwind of her.

Silently she crept toward the edge of a massive tree and peered around it, a vermillion male was stalking toward the opposite edge of the tree. Her deep black maw broke into a mischievous grin. She had never a red one like her family that she didn't know!

Sinking low to the ground she whisked her paws over the ground, skipping over the snow drifts, leaping from bare ground to bare ground as silently as she could. Her last foot prints would be easily found if he kept on his search but she was already skipping toward a new hideout, careful not to leave a single spore, the trees offering little space beneath them where snow would never reach. Perhaps he'd think he was getting haunted by a ghost!

Speech // thought

He was drawing closer and closer in the direction of the Syndicate, his goal not fully solidified in his head—which may have been for the better. It was a rather reckless one, after all. Driven by impulse. A half-formed thought in the back of his mind, his body moving forward regardless of consequence.

Yet for a moment, he thought he smelled that woman on the wind, but perhaps it was merely a trick of the mind. An irritating sensation, just like that loss had been.

Still, something unsettled him more than the thought of never having a rematch. Call it instinct, or his inherent paranoia. A hunter's sixth sense that was proven correct as he spotted something. Redrum froze mid-step, his long ears flicking sharply toward the faint disturbance before him. Paw prints—soft, light, but there all the same. Small. A child’s gait. His skull dropped, dipping low between his shoulders; hovering just above the indentations on the ground.

His golden eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared, drawing in a slow, deep breath. A faint trace of familiar scent, diminishingly quickly. Nothing else on the wind, but the silence wasn’t as tranquil as it had been moments before. A new presence, something, someone, had entered his space.

He turned his head slightly, his jaw twitching uncontrollably as he glanced around. Was there a little predator seeking to make him their prey? His lips quivered with a smile. His muscles bunched as he lowered his blood-red frame, shifting his weight slowly and letting his toes splay in the snow. Slowly, but like a stone thrown in a lake, his weight shifted forward before exploding into movement.

He shot off, the heavy crunch of snow beneath his paws audible as he pursued the trail. He followed it with the intensity of a bloodhound, his focus singular. Whoever left those tracks wouldn’t stay ahead of him for long.

"Murder"

As the little predator skirted around another massive trunk, she wondered why these trees had the raspy scraggly red bark on them. As her back brushed the branches of a spindly sapling while she moved, she wondered why here the undergrowth was lush but the Sparse Pines of her home were naked and bare around each skyward trunk.

She heard a burst of noise as her eyes spied a snow leaden fern. Its fronds dipped low under the wet weight and browning along the edges. She dived underneath it to pass under the fronds but in doing so she launched the clods of snow up and alerting her pursuer of her direction. Shit! Some ghost she was! Xina clung to the shadows under another fern then launched over the bare ground across a clearing! A peal of laughter rang high in the air as she felt her pursuer come within inches of her tail! Another massive treetrunk came up on her right and she dove down toward the roots. A shadowy escape clear to her eyes among the twisting roots of a fallen tree. She dug into the cedar earth and flung pine needles and dirt behind her as she found the opening to the larger trunk! But it was a dead end!

She spun around and snarled baring her teeth at the stranger, suddenly the fun petered out when she could no longer hide nor escape.

Speech // thought

Redrum had been a streak of crimson, a bullet flying through the undergrowth, relentless in his pursuit. The little predator's laugh had rung out like a dare, feeding the fire in his golden eyes as he finally set sights on her. A child, just as he’d thought. She looked like an ember dying out on a log. Or maybe kindling coming to life. Her darting, weaving movements were a game—a chaotic dance, one that made his lips twist into a quivering, unsettling grin.

He wanted to catch her.

She dove toward the roots of a fallen tree, her frantic digging to no avail, no escape—this is when Redrum slowed. His paws steady as he crouched, his long ears flicking forward to catch the sounds of her scrabbling within the roots. His breathing was controlled, though his muscles quivered with anticipation. He leaned forward, watching as she spun to face him, her teeth bared and a snarl tearing through the confined between them.

Redrum tilted his head. His golden eyes gleamed, unblinking, as they locked onto hers. The intensity of his gaze was sharp enough to stab right through her. He didn’t move, he simply watched, blocking her exit. Seconds tick, tick, ticked by.

Then, his lips pulled back—not in aggression, but in a wide, unnerving smile that exposed the sharp glint of his teeth. "Cornered, Little Kindling." he rasped, voice uneven, each letter dragged out. "No more—running."

He tilted his head the other way, his gaze narrowing as he slowly lowered himself, his frame ready to spring. There was no immediate lunge, no mindless aggression—only a lingering pause, as though he was savoring this moment, the shift in their dynamic. No longer the ghost haunting him in the forest. He was the predator. She was the prey.

"Does she—fight, or—will she… freeze?" His voice dipped lower, a growl forming along the edges of his voice. He was curious. Curious to see if this child of red and fire could be similar to him, even if he did not know their blood relation. The concept that he might scare the young girl did not cross his mind, there were no tears, no crying out—this was a game.



"Murder"