A dulling mist crept across the low hills leading towards the mountain, and with the mist came the soft pitter-patter of tiny raindrops. They sprinkled across lake Rodney and turned the pale leaves of the forest in to a more vibrant tone, although nothing could replenish the color that the oncoming winter sapped out of them. Amon wasn't among the trees where he usually roosted, nor was he patrolling the lake's edge; he was stationed like a great boulder upon a distant rise, far to the west. It was entirely possible he had crossed over the pack boundary, but he wasn't thinking of that.

Over the next ridge there was a small herd of elk - very small, in fact. He had tracked them from the lake all the way out here, not with the intention of hunting them (for that would be a foolish thing to do on his own) but to monitor them. The herd had lingered upon the hillside for a solid two hours now, and Amon was curious about where they'd wander next. Perhaps he could manipulate their movements? Spook them back towards the caldera? It was a thought, and nothing more - something to occupy his mind while the soft rain soaked in to him.

The herd was surprisingly small - a pair of elderly elk, their shoulders hunched like his own and their bodies graying; a few young and healthy females; there were no newborns, though. Perhaps they would come with spring. The beasts mulled about with their heads down, grazing across the frosted grass. Occasionally the oldest of the elk - a great male with splintered and blunted antlers - would lift his head and peer around. But without any reason to fear, he would return to his feeding.

Amon watched them every few minutes, but grew steadily bored. They weren't doing anything of interest, after all. But when he began to adjust his body to ease his own joints, the sounds caught upon the air and brought the entire herd's attention to him. Amon ducked, waited, and thought to leave the herd entirely — but then there was another body nearby, one of the caldera wolves. Instantly Amon was nervous that she would scare the herd.

With a swift glance towards the family beyond, he saw that they were too busy munching. Whew.

When he turned back to the girl, she was introducing herself. Amon recognized her from the pumpkin party - but he was hardly pleased to see the youngster. She had almost spoiled all of his work. With a low voice, he rumbled, Amon. I've been tracking them for hours. If you want to hunt them then you'll need someone to help you - that ain't my job. But then they'd have to summon others - and the chance of the initial howl spooking the herd was a great one. Double back and call for support - I'll keep an eye on them.

The girl did as she was told. She departed, and when Amon heard the distant lilt of a voice upon the wind, he knew it wouldn't be long before the girl returned with gamekeepers in tow. Her arrival was prompt, and as Amon swung his head and caught sight of her approaching - expecting to see three or four individuals following her - he felt a slight deflation when only one other was running by her side. As the pair got nearer Amon identified the boy as Elwood. Briefly they exchanged greetings, and then Somnia was off - Elwood taking up a similar position elsewhere. Amon sat back in his hiding place and waited, watching the show in silence.

He should have abandoned his vigil and aided in their chase, even if he was far slower than the two younger, lighter wolves. He should have at least done more than sit and watch - but alas, Amon did not. And now the herd had taken flight, charging away from the approaching threat and towards the distant mountains. Even the very old elk seemed to be too quick for the spry hunters, who returned with a deflated sort of energy; while the girl stated the obvious, the boy gave a quick apology, and Amon sighed.

He wasn't angry with them. It had been a good chance to practice their skills. The herd would not return to this area of the wilds for some time though, not with the memory of wolves to sour their plans. Eh, it happens. I'll find something else for you. Maybe something smaller or slower, which he could help with. But the man wouldn't get his hopes up.

As he rose from his location, his body popped in various places - like it had conformed to a shape, and now was returning to a wolfish figure. He stretched his rear legs with a couple of steps, feeling the tension in his hips, and then turned towards the direction of the caldera. Without another word, Amon began to march back to the pack lands.