the caribou were coming down from the mountains, starved after a diet of needles and tough grass. their hunger made them careless as they poured by hundreds into the passes, the clefts, the rises, and the valleys, consuming all before them like grunting locusts.

their cows were pregnant, in varying degrees, but not yet ready for birth, not until true spring had come and true warmth had returned. they ate with desperation, hardly looking up.

the aspiration of the ulfhedinn was for two caribou. it was ambitious, but two kills would feed the pack until after new snow had given birth, if he had considered the time correctly. 

and today he would be looking for a potential apprentice of his own.

breath steamed as the great wolf stopped, testing the air. the caribou were eating their way through a forest rich in undergrowth and early spring shoots. he licked his nose. all of them had antlers, which made each one dangerous, but few of them paid attention as they were watched.

mountain boulder waited, eyes narrowed toward their grazing forms as they dipped in and out of shadow.