Blackfeather Woods For the night is dark and full of stories

The voices of the pack fade into silence. A wet nose hovers slightly above the ground. Grim sniffs for prey scent while thinking that perhaps he should have stayed at the gathering for the feast at least. Golden eyes narrow. There's no turning back to them. He will just have to find his own prey. The blood dusted male searches the area for any hint of food. Grim snarls when he can't find any fresh trails. No matter though. He takes off for one of his favorite spots in the woods. The field of blood flowers will calm his anger and irritation. Teeth glint in a small smile. A tongue wets thin lips. There's a possibility that the sight could also send him out seeking for a fight. Not that Grim wouldn't enjoy sinking his maw into someone's flesh.