To the hunt

The fire-marked wolf stepped into the cloudy day. A hint of mist lingered on the cool grass, thicker than the mask that usually smothered the territory around the shrine. It had not snowed, and for that he was grateful. It was not easy for a dark wolf to hunt in the blindingly white surroundings.

He made his way to the packs border, and took a seat. Looking out to the Western territories. Across the stream, and just past the swamplands lay some of the most fertile lands around. He could think of no better place to hunt, and dragging home their kills would not take as long.

He had spoken to his Shogun the day prior, and the leader had promised to assign him a wolf to help him in his self-appointed task of filling the stores. He was early, he knew, and his companion would be along soon. Who would Hattori have assigned to help him? He knew few of the Ashen wolves, so it mattered not. They would likely be a stranger to him.


"Speech"