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His stomach burned and howled. He had not eaten for some time now. He was content in his independence, but did not relish the continual effort it required to keep himself fed and cared for as he travelled around. Though he bore the stress of lone wolf life well for he had an assortment of skills suited to it, it was nonetheless a stress. In a pack, with many paws at work, food was seldom scarce, and each wolf had each other's back. It was an easier life in many respects, and allowed him the freedom to indulge in life's pleasures more frequently. That much he did miss.

He crossed the path of another wolf laid over the fresh scent of caribou, and turned from his line to follow it. Perhaps there was a chance for a meal at the end of it, but what he found was the pungent odor of a marked pack border, and a male sitting some distance from it, watching intently. He quickly deduced that the man had been tracking the ungulate, but that it had crossed that invisible line that only fools dared to cross. Rhett expelled a deep breath.

"Lunch got away from you?" he commented as he drew nearer.