Dakota has spent months searching for the place he saw in his dreams, his visions; paradise he calls it. The place all could be happy, where his packs bellies could be full, where they could all prosper. He’ll search until he finds it.
Through his journey he’s made his way to the furthest southwestern corner of the Teekon Wilds. The former sled dog has no idea he’s entered the foreign territory, so he continues forth, exploring and searching for his paradise.
Dakota crosses the silver creek through a series of small rocks covered in sheets of snow and ice that make for a rather untrustworthy, makeshift bridge. His paws slip, he loses his footing, rights himself, carries on. He steps off the moss covered rocks and his paws revel at the feel of safe, solid ground. Snow falls around him lightly, it catches on his whiskers and falls in a blanket on the thick fur of his back.
His honey hued eyes gaze at his surroundings, then out of the corner of his eye the black beads for eyes of a white hare stick out of the whiteness of the snow. Without a thought a lively smile comes to his face and his body–hard with muscle from sled pulling–shoots from its stationary place by the river. His strides are long and he traverses the snow fast with ease. He goes from point a: the rivers edge, to point b: the spot where the rabbit resides, in seconds.
Where some have size but no speed, he proves that wrong with his large size and the quickness of a much smaller animal. His time as a sled dog has conditioned his body is ways that a wolf or dog in a natural environment wouldn’t have.
He’s on the hare’s heels in no time. Even as it began running through the snow, he stays on it. He’s beginning to tire and he pushes himself one last time, smile gone to be replaced by hard brows and his muzzle tight with determination. The mutt pushes himself those few inches he initially needed and snatches the hare by the back leg in his powerful jaws like a bear trap.
He goes tumbling through the snow, rolling with the rabbit in his mouth. It still struggles, dangerously kicking at his face and it slashes his ear cutting an inch long gash into his left ear, he growls, violently shaking the rabbit now. The thing going from shoulder to shoulder and he drops it, white fur dripping with blood staining the snow red as well. The animal twitches and he grabs it by the neck and does the same, shaking it until he knows it’s dead. Looking down at it he huffs and smirks, grabbing the body and chunking it up in the air and jumping up and catching it. He’s always been told not to play with his food but he hasn’t played fetch in quite some time so he has to improvise.
After a few minutes of playfully throwing the hare he fitfully decides to eat it, lying in the field of snow he casually rips apart this rabbit. So occupied he doesn’t even notice anything other than himself occupying this lily white field of snow.
Through his journey he’s made his way to the furthest southwestern corner of the Teekon Wilds. The former sled dog has no idea he’s entered the foreign territory, so he continues forth, exploring and searching for his paradise.
Dakota crosses the silver creek through a series of small rocks covered in sheets of snow and ice that make for a rather untrustworthy, makeshift bridge. His paws slip, he loses his footing, rights himself, carries on. He steps off the moss covered rocks and his paws revel at the feel of safe, solid ground. Snow falls around him lightly, it catches on his whiskers and falls in a blanket on the thick fur of his back.
His honey hued eyes gaze at his surroundings, then out of the corner of his eye the black beads for eyes of a white hare stick out of the whiteness of the snow. Without a thought a lively smile comes to his face and his body–hard with muscle from sled pulling–shoots from its stationary place by the river. His strides are long and he traverses the snow fast with ease. He goes from point a: the rivers edge, to point b: the spot where the rabbit resides, in seconds.
Where some have size but no speed, he proves that wrong with his large size and the quickness of a much smaller animal. His time as a sled dog has conditioned his body is ways that a wolf or dog in a natural environment wouldn’t have.
He’s on the hare’s heels in no time. Even as it began running through the snow, he stays on it. He’s beginning to tire and he pushes himself one last time, smile gone to be replaced by hard brows and his muzzle tight with determination. The mutt pushes himself those few inches he initially needed and snatches the hare by the back leg in his powerful jaws like a bear trap.
He goes tumbling through the snow, rolling with the rabbit in his mouth. It still struggles, dangerously kicking at his face and it slashes his ear cutting an inch long gash into his left ear, he growls, violently shaking the rabbit now. The thing going from shoulder to shoulder and he drops it, white fur dripping with blood staining the snow red as well. The animal twitches and he grabs it by the neck and does the same, shaking it until he knows it’s dead. Looking down at it he huffs and smirks, grabbing the body and chunking it up in the air and jumping up and catching it. He’s always been told not to play with his food but he hasn’t played fetch in quite some time so he has to improvise.
After a few minutes of playfully throwing the hare he fitfully decides to eat it, lying in the field of snow he casually rips apart this rabbit. So occupied he doesn’t even notice anything other than himself occupying this lily white field of snow.
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