Big Salmon Lake [m] Fresh out of an icky gooey womb

The Alpha did not take one bite, aside from the killing one. He stood panting over the wet newborn fawn, then turned when he heard the telltale sound of feeding wolves. He arched his head to afford himself a view of the pair gorging themselves on an older fawn. He smiled wanly, happy for their success despite the fact that they were natural rivals. As he watched them, he found himself uncharacteristically curious about their identities. What if they weren't from a pack? What if he could recruit two incredibly promising hunters into his ranks today?

Unable to resist finding out for sure, the Alpha snatched up the limp fawn and began trotting back toward the two strange wolves. He maintained a distance of perhaps one hundred yards, keeping his body language entirely neutral to make it crystal clear he posed no threat. He had a meal of his own, which he dropped at his paws. He didn't need to steal their food.

"That was quite a take-down. Thank you for the unexpected opportunity, by the way. I couldn't have done it without you," he called out to them, indicating the slain infant at his feet. "I'm Peregrine, from the caldera," he also offered, giving them room to either introduce themselves in turn or tell him to mind his own business.