Redhawk Caldera Mind my wicked words and tipsy topsy slurs

It was good to hear Peregrine's positive sentiments. The whole experience had served to help both Elwood and Finley mature a bit, and in a rather short time. Although there was still a lot of growth to be made by each of them, he did feel that, at the very least, they would be able to provide their children with a safe, happy childhood. He smiled in return, though both wolves soon shifted their focus to the hunt.

They moved through some thick underbrush that opened up into a clearing. Elwood's gaze landed on a lone female boar that appeared to have wandered away from the rest of the group. It was snuffling the ground with its snout, turning up the dirt in search of roots, and it seemed oblivious to the approach of the two predators. Elwood's pulse quickened with excitement and he swallowed a mouthful of saliva, then glanced at Peregrine.

"We got lucky," he murmured, his yellow eyes fixated on the grey animal. They needed to move quickly, before it wised up and returned to its herd. "I'll circle around it and run it back towards you?" he suggested; although Peregrine was technically his subordinate, he still valued the master gamekeeper's opinion and would gladly take advice if it was offered.