Ravensblood Forest your life's a dimestore novel

Raptor did not care for trees. He was a creature of rock and wave, of sand and beachgrass, of open skies and... you get the drift. But the pirate had but one true master: his stomach. His seemingly bottomless stomach. It lured him away from the river that ran to the sea. It drew him inland. He followed the faint scent of blood into the dark of the timber with ears flicked back on his skull in annoyance.

"Rarrgh!" He exclaimed (and kinda growled) when he had last had traced the scent of blood to where another wolf lay bleeding and maybe even dying. His hopes that the blood belonged to something other than the wolf — something he could steal — were shattered right there. "Ye gonna be dead soon, bucko?" He called to the wolf. "Hungry 'ere, and ain't got all day." Raptor grumped as he sat back on his ass and scowled.

Whether Raptor would eat another wolf was up for debate.