Phoenix Maplewood look around, leaves are brown

Murdock had been successful in apprehending the deer. The blow he had given to the deer's leg had slowed it significantly down, bleeding out as it bleated for mercy. It now had hobbled to a walk, ambling away from the pair of wolves with fear in its eyes. Not one for dragging things out, Shale trotted alongside it and rose on his hind legs, sinking his jaws into the deer's throat before tugging back downwards.

With a mighty thud, the animal came down, Shale letting go in time to avoid its falling on top of him. The scent of blood was heavy and thick in the air; it had came in a gush over his mouth, and Shale licked his chops, looking back for Murdock.

"Well hunted. . .brother." The last word came quiet with uncertainty. It had been so long since he had seen Murdock--since he had seen any sibling--that he had nearly forgotten the feeling of family, of being connected by blood to others. In this hunt, he and his older brother had once more formed a bond, however tenuous it may be.