Northstar Vale eclipse

Warbone smirked as he considered the difference between mutton and pork. It mostly lie in the taste— sheep were hard creatures and their meat reflected as such, tasting very much of mountains they came from; but pigs were more supple, and dirtier, as they consumed anything in their path. And there was something about illusory filth that made things taste better.

Before he could answer though, Tryphon decided that it didn't matter the difference, and picked for them to collaborate on a pork dinner. It would be an easier task, if anything else, and tastier in Warbone's case. It would also be a meal perfect to share. "Pig it is," he rumbled approvingly, changing his direction suddenly to head in the direction where he knew he would find a swine trail. 

In a companionable way, Warbone decided not to speak as they went. The silence was not uncomfortable to him, and though he wanted to know everything of his wolves, he certainly wasn't keen on asking more of them than they were willing to give. Tryphon seemed most at ease when he wasn't forced to speak, so he didn't make him; and even without grilling the boy, they were able to find a sounder of pigs in a relatively short time.

The wolves hung back, keeping the wind in their favor as they listened to the grunts and squeals of the foraging adversaries. "That one," Warbone murmured, nosing towards an old hog who seemed a tad shunned from the rest of the group; probably sick with some disease or another that made him undesirable to his own kin. The wolf nudged his companion, motioning for him to take up position for a short chase.