Ravensblood Forest from wars that you waged

For the space of a few silent breaths he stood frozen where he stood, listening.  Here, the faint, feather-light brush of a paw against leaves and other detritus that littered the earth.  There, the soft exhalation of breath over the whisper of breeze and the cacauphony of ravens.  He knew he wasn't alone, and that whatever was out there was just as aware of his presence as he was of its.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice came through the trees, dark and rich and preceded by a rumbling that sounded more like a distant thunderstorm than a mere growl.  At least he knew it was a wolf he was dealing with now, even if that growl (which sounded like it came from the throat of something enormous) made him want to make tracks in the opposite direction.  Being a wuss wouldn't get food in his belly, so he took a second to get his shit together and then responded, "I mean no harm -- I'm just looking for food."  His eyes swept the darkness and there, on the other side of a thick stand of black trunks, he thought he saw a white form.  "If you're as hungry as I am, perhaps we'd have better luck if we hunted together?"