Phantom Hollow jekyll and hyde

When he awoke, he stirred to consciousness to find that the Hollow he'd taken shelter in for the night as dusk had broken the horizon, cracking the sky open with it's colors: gold, crimson, purple and navy blue as the sun made it's last stand, defiant before it'd sunk into the crust of the earth in the distant horizon to be covered in a dense layer of fog. Unfamiliar with the territory as he'd initially been this created a vacuum of disorientation that left the fiery eyed Kesuk-DiSarinno lost. Literally. If it would not have been for the disagreement of his stomach in the form of a hunger rumble he might have stayed there and attempted for a few more hours of slumber until the day burned the fog off; but his stomach protested loudly — loud enough to alert anyone with exceptional hearing to his presence despite that the barren tree he'd curled under, draped with thick cascades of moss hadn't hid him well enough. If there was one advantage to the fog, his monotone colored coat might have offered him a little camouflage in the thickness of the fog. 


Unfortunately, such a silver lining was thin and easily broken as it meant he would have trouble hunting. Artaxias spent the next hour searching for a trail, though what he came upon was the abandoned carcass of a elk; a lucky find if there was one. Artaxias erred to the side of caution, however, and sniffed intently at it, inhaling the sickly sweet scent of decay as attempted to determine if there would be another wolf, or something bigger that had claimed it. The scents upon it were faded and the kill was cold and stiff to his touch when he pressed a large paw against a half torn apart flank. The urge to turn his nose up at it was strong — he was a man that deffered to fresh meat — but beggars couldn't be choosers, Sveinx had always insisted and his survival instinct kicked in pushing him to take a toughened strip of flesh and then another, intent on getting his fill.