Whitefish River winsome athletic

The pack, and the slave girl's pups, needed to be fed. Taking one of the slaves with him for translating with the natives and helping to round up any prey that they found, he ventured south into the lands where the fire had not touched. Zoratto noted every prey trail they passed, speaking to the slave with clipped remarks about the green lands here. He would have to tell Rakharo about the prey here, if the Khal was within his wits after his brother's death.

The Ezok paused, his pale eyes flitting to a small brown creature in the forest ahead of them, staring intently at two chipmunks. Snacks really, to the Dotharan and the slave. That was nothing for them to bother with. The child though...could they risk stealing a child as a slave? They had plenty. Regardless, Zoratto announced himself with a deep bark, his pale eyes locked onto the younger wolf's form.