Horizon Ridge I Never Had

While the unknown male - likely a new recruit if the freshness of Horizon Ridges’ and Pump’s scent upon his coat was of any indication to the Viking - seemed consumed with his kill Björn took the chance to discreetly study the stranger with typically cold, caribbean blue eyes, judging that the other was a bear of a wolf, like him. Despite that they could have been evenly matched, Björn did not feel threatened. There would always be someone bigger, pushing further the boundaries of genetics than Björn already had, but size did not equal skill, and Björn was savage and feral on his good days and a downright demon when he fought, consuming the herbs that would put him into a ‘blood frenzy’ that spawned the Berserker warriors. Yet, the way the other bounced towards him left Björn with an impression that would not easily be broken. It was an odd thing to see a fellow wolf built akin to a bear like himself, with a spring in it’s step. For a moment, the Viking was unsure how to take this, simply staring at the male who had dropped the hare with a resounding ‘splat’ the blood oozing out of it’s neck like a crimson river at Björn’s paws, blood splattering up in crimson droplets upon the Viking’s platinum silver legs.

The other male spoke that Björn looked like he needed the hare in a merry tone that left Björn stuck between if he wanted to snicker or growl. Maybe both. “Do I now?” Björn inquired gruffly, understanding that the intentions were good but unable to help taking slight offense nevertheless. It was true that Björn was injured which greatly hindered his other wise second nature hunting skills, but he had not lost weight, for the others had kept the injured well fed. Regardless of the fact that the scent of the hare, of blood and fresh meat had made saliva pool in the Viking’s mouth he refused to eat it. “There are others that are injured more gravely than myself,” His thoughts flickered to Kennedy whom suffered a few broken bones. “They should be fed first.” The Viking was a lot of things - most of them not good but he wasn’t entirely heartless and the more he lingered here, the more he began to think about the well being of his pack mates before his own.

“I am Björn.” The Savage gave his assumed moniker. “You are new here?” Björn inquired in the next breath, though he had already assumed an answer.