King Elk Forest the pariah

The swarthy beast swayed from side to side in a steady lope across the forest floor. His long legs carried him with purpose. The trees overhead did not seem to house him well – they had been pillaged by insects – but the sun had set over an hour ago and his inky pelt melded with the darkness as though he was crafted for it. His mahogany gaze was set on the destination ahead. The coast.
 
Skellige was born on the rich and lush lands of the Warsaw Islands. The dotted ocean lands were coveted by four nearby packs, though the Cairn male’s family had held fast to their territory with a vicious grip. Had the attempted murder of his sister Ksenia been a success, Skellige would have been the next chosen to rule their land. Nevertheless, Ksenia had not died and Skellige had been banned from his home. So the savage had set out to find another.
 
Though he was many miles away, the silver-ribbed hulk of dark fur could scent the brine of the ocean and the wind carried with it a promise of a new future.