Neverwinter Forest Intrepid

His steely gaze combed the undergrowth and he spotted her: a large, black shadow prowling like a panther. His eyes fixed on her as she moved through the cover, circling the dying moose. Her tail lashed, signaling her dominance over the kill. Impala's eyes briefly shifted back to the bull moose, noting his wound, then back to her just in time for their eyes to meet. He held her gaze for a beat, then another swing of the moose's antlered head drew his attention.

When he looked back, she was gone. Impala scoured the scrub again even as he slowly lowered himself into a crouch. He did not prepare to spring, either toward her or the moose. He intended only to observe as the moose struggled through his final moments. He would make no attempt to take the she-wolf's hard-earned kill from her. But if she was alone, perhaps the yearling hunter could feed after she had taken her fill.

Despite his recumbent position, Impala kept his long legs braced in case the black she-wolf tried to attack and chase him away from her prey. Otherwise, he remained silent and motionless, his curious markings helping him blend in with the shifting light and shadows dancing between the evergreens. He kept his senses attuned for the female's approach, begrudgingly wondering at her determination and prowess. Not many wolves could make such a difficult kill on their own.