A fox kit hung from between his teeth. Alive.
It was young enough not to be afraid of him; smaller than it should have been, and lethargic.
He held it around its plump middle. Some ways aft the snow was streaked with red, and tufts of orange-gold fur lay scattered among the heaps of snow like saffron. The mother had been desperate to keep him away and had inevitably failed.
With a final clench of his jaws, Tulimaq sank his teeth in to the kit and shook. The meat could not be salvaged for much gain and the pelts, should anyone have desired them at any point, were past any point of beauty or usefulness.
He tossed the tiny thing in to the pile with its siblings soon enough.
There.
A man.
Tall, strong, older. Stained with fox in a way he cannot understand. He witnessed the discarding of the young one, how it was used for seemingly nothing more than a toss.
Why?
Because he can. Wouldn’t you, if you could?
He quivered at the thought, a leaf in the breeze. Yet the man was not the only scent to be found. Others peppered the land, the areas. He wondered if there more like this
man.
He only watched silently from a handful of yards away, blue eyes placed upon the man as he found himself transfixed on the fox cleanser. Was he — himself — worth being noticed?
Would he find himself between the jaws that had crushed the fiery vermin?
Bored, now.
Licking blood from his lips. Kicking at the pile of little bodies and watching them tumble.
Off to one side of his periphery Tulimaq sensed something; or maybe he saw a tremble of shadow, but either way, he turned and looked to where the other wolf lurked.
He didn't see anyone yet, but called with a sharp bark — enough to spook birds from their roosts among the trees, causing them to spiral.
Makan was akin to the birds.
The sound — followed by the flock's departure — stirred some natural need to move. So he took off with the birds, only to leave himself visibly open to the other male.
And when he realized this error, he froze, dusted with snow. Eyes bright against his otherwise dark features as they looked wide towards him.
With the flight of the birds came something else: a more terrestrial body racing from cover, spooked in the manner of a deer. Tulimaq thought it could be a fox having waited for a change to escape.
He lunged after it and stopped short almost immediately, bristling. It was larger than a fox; darker too. Wide-eyed and filled with nervous energy. If Tulimaq wanted he could have barrelled on, grabbed them, pinned them.
They did not look much like a threat to him, though. Scared and by virtue of that fear, weak. He rumbled a warning for them to stay still and advanced towards them with deliberate steps, stashing the earlier malevolence reserved for the foxes.
He wanted to know where this one had been, among other things.
He was locked in place. The male need not even rumble for it. Makan did not know what they wanted from him, he did not like being in the face of somebody so obviously stronger than him.
Cautiously he lifted a foreleg and tucked it against him, still standing. Head tilted some to submissively expose the soft of his throat.
He was aware that this could end very badly.
The wolf went on to stare at him. Tulimaq advanced without worry, letting the bristle of his nape warn them of the danger he carried within himself.
There was a careful movement by the shadow that exposed a piece of their throat; a peace offering perhaps. It did not slow Tulimaq in any way. He came in quite close and drew breath, gathering the wild scent of the stranger and tasting the air for illness.
He was pleased with what he found. A low rumble of approval came next, deepening to something closer to appreciation and invitation. His tail raised and flagged, whipping once at the air. If the shadow wished to do the same he was welcome.