Regulus Anatolii Adravendi

Regulus was feeling much better, now that he was over the worst of the illness that both he and his mother had experienced. A nasty cold, but the last traces of it were fading, and they were no longer contagious. He could breathe, and he could hear. He was out, finally stretching his legs. It felt great to run again, even if he had to take it slow. He also took the time to explore the spring wildlife. It was mid spring, and yet there was still the faintest hint of nippiness to the air. He enjoyed the crisp scent, and again reveled in the fact that he could smell the crisp air. A fresh scent of deer caught his nose, and his path veered abruptly, his claws grasping at mud before he found traction again and started off at a slower pace, content to track the deer. Maybe he would be able to get back into hunting again. The trail meandered from bush to bush in the wooded areas, and he took his time, analyzing the scent for any signs of weakness. No blood, no scent of decay that might signify a festering wound, and the tracks were evenly spaced, with no uncharacteristic deepening of one track in comparison to the other four feet. Thus far, his first deer tracking mission seemed to be following a perfectly healthy specimen. Phooey. He deviated from the trail, nose lifting into the breeze and questing for any airborne smells that might be interesting. He thought he caught a whiff of one of the herbs Zuriel and their Father often brought back to the family den. He’d heard his mother snarl at their father about hiding something like healing from her, considering who her mother had been. He himself didn’t quite get why his father had been so lax in just telling her. Healing was perfectly awesome. It helped wolves get better, like himself and his mother. Of course, he had more interest in fighting and hunting, but he’d been interested enough to take in a lot of his grandmothers knowledge as a pup, and plenty of Zuriels growing knowledge while he’d been sick. Another scent, this one far more interesting, snagged his attention, and he was off at a trot, following the scent of a deer into the plains, noting the drops of blood on the ground. Oh now this was far more interesting. He slowed to a walk, taking his time to note all the details of the deers trail. The blood was recent, maybe within the hour, and the track pattern was uneven, with the right side being deeper than the left. So the prey must have been injured on the left side, though he wouldn’t know exactly where until he got a look at the beast. He tracked the animal for an hour, and finally, as he crossed back into a wooded portion of the plains, he looked up and crouched low, quite happy to stop and rest as he surveyed the deer. Eww. Its left side was toward him, enough that he could see the gaping wound in its flank. It looked a bit like a big cat had managed to get a hold of it, but had lost it, leaving deep claw wounds in its side, enough that a bit of the entrails was visible. Flies badgered the wound incessantly. The deer had been too busy fending off the flies to notice the bright red wolf hunkered behind it, and the wind was blowing in Regulus’ direction. He took the opportunity to decide on what to do. The deer was probably a fawn from last year; it was still small compared to an adult. Thus, he might be able to bring it down alone. And, really, it was too late to call for Zuriel, or for that matter Tornach, who was easily becoming big enough to hunt with him. Finally, he decided to take the gamble and rose slowly, starting forward with a low bark that sent the deer lunging forward in surprise. It was evident immediately that the deer was in pain, because it didn’t keep running for long, instead slowing, holding itself carefully. Better to end this quickly. Regulus lunged into a sprint and forced the deer into a frantic run. The adrenaline burst for the deer faded quickly, and Regulus finished the chase with a lunge for the throat, bringing his weight to bear into the animals shoulder to knock it off stride. The whole thing was over rather swiftly. Regulus stepped back, licking the blood from his jaws as he lowered himself to his haunches for a breather. Dinner was served, even if Zuriel would have his hide for the exertion.

Tórnach, freed from the den now that his máthair was well again and could give him permission to go out, had set off along the plains on his tall gangling adolescent legs with a purpose. He had been horrifically bored and restless, but unlike his sister he'd been given an ultimatum - do not leave the den without permission until he was a yearling. So, though his curiosity had been only whetted, not soothed, by his brief forays into the World Outside, he hadn't strayed more than a couple body lengths beyond the cave system that formed their den, just enough to stretch out in the sun and yearn for the plains beyond. Mamaí too ill, Regulus too ill, Dadaí all but missing lately. He hadn't even seen Zuriel or Báine half the time, so he didn't have anything to do but sit quietly and think. He'd nosed through Zuriel's herb stores a million times, memorizing scents and herbs though he didn't know what they were called or what they were used for. He'd explored the cave system extensively, learning very quickly to follow his scent back to the entrance even after getting terribly lost and crisscrossing his own trail several times. Now with Mamaí and Regulus feeling better they were out of the den more, off hunting and yet still Tór was left at the den feeling very left out and mopey. But today... today Mamaí had given him permission to leave the den, and he had immediately struck out on his brother's trail. Regulus was out hunting, and Tór was determined to join him. But after some time of tracking the scent, and having it cross the scent he remembered from one of his illicit pup outings as 'deer', and then the iron scent of blood, he knew he was too late to hunt with his brother. The leggy pup drooped despondently. He'd really hoped he could hunt with his brother this time, now that Regulus was better and he was older. He was already as big as Zuriel, though the oversized paws and ears spoke of a still growing pup so he was clearly not done yet. Coming up on Regulus at a trot, his blue eyes swept over the kill curiously. "Maidin mhaith, deartháir mór," he said politely, his voice still childishly high and soft. "Feicim tú go raibh fhiach maith." His tail wagged slowly, seriousness writ broadly over his gangly frame. "Tá brón orm go raibh mé ró-mhall chun cabhrú leat." ""

Regulus Anatolii Adravendi

He heard the rustle of paws behind and turned, half ready to defend the kill if need be, but the scowl turned into a lopsided grin as he saw his little brother. No calling him ‘little’ for much longer. He’s still growing, and he’s already big. He wagged his tail in greeting, answering "Dea-maidin, deartháir beag." He nodded to Tornach’s observation of a good hunt, but shook his head at the apology. "Ba chóir dom a thug tú liom. Tá tú mór go leor chun iarracht a dhéanamh do chéad fiach. B'fhéidir gur féidir linn teacht ar coinín, díreach ar do shon." The idea of teaching his younger, and only, brother how to hunt was an exciting idea for him. He loved learning, but he wanted to teach, too. He pushed a paw against the deer carcass, a plan already formulating in his head. "Má cabhrú leat mé seo a fháil ar ais go dtí an nead, beidh mé a ghlacadh tú amach as do chéad cheacht rianú coinín. D'fhéadfadh muid a fháil fiú an coinín." He gave Tornach a grin, heavy tail swaying slowly behind him. Then another thought hit him, and he cocked his head. "Nó ... raibh mé ag múineadh agat cad a fhios agam faoi troid go dtí seo ..." Teach his brother how to defend himself? Hell yes. But the decision rested on Tornach’s shoulders, so he lowered his head to the neck of the deer. "Tar ar. Is féidir leat cinneadh a dhéanamh cad ba mhaith leat a dhéanamh inniu ar an mbealach ar ais go dtí an nead agus muid a tharraingt seo. Obair foirne!" He left the choice of what to grab up to his brother as well, but once Tornach had grabbed something, Regulus was ready to pull.

Tornach's tail wagged quietly behind him at his brother's words. "Ba mhaith liom go," he said a little wistfully wistfully. He would really like to go hunting with his brother. Since mamaí and Regulus had gotten sick it had been all daidí and Zurial could do to keep them all fed, let alone drag a couple of pups along to teach them, so he'd not had any opportunities to do so - and he'd gotten to spend so little time with his deartháir mór. He moved to take hold of the deer, but then paused, blue eyes wide as he looked up at Regulus. Teach him to fight? "Féidir linn, Regulus? An féidir linn a ndáiríre?" And then, recalling himself to his work, quickly sank his teeth into a hind leg and prepared himself to pull with Regulus, his eyes shining up at his brother with excitement. ""