Two Rivers Isle i knock the ice from my bones

@Devin <3 successful hunt roll

 

The sun had begun it's descent into the skyline letting Arturo know that evening had settled over the Teekon Wilds. Already, the sky that stretched vast and unending over Two Rivers Isle was painted with the pastel colors of sunset: beautiful but the mobster's attention was not on the beauty of the bleeding sky horizon but instead on the groundhog he gave chase to. He'd spent all day exploring this particular territory, enticed by the two rivers that surrounded it, acting like a barrier, a forest mixed with pines, cedars, dogwoods and sentinels at the southern edge of the territory provided ample shelter it's hills were bare but there was green returning to the earth and it didn't take much imagination to know that they were lush in their peak season. Mentally, he eyed it as a potential territory to claim when ever life came back to the Teekon Wilds and forming a pack was not a fool's plight as it was currently. He'd been exploring the forest in the territory in depth when he'd stopped — abruptly — having caught the scent of a groundhog. He breathed in the scent deeply, a slow rumble in his stomach and saliva pooling in his mouth as he lowered his head and let his fiery orange-red gaze sweep the skeletal bracken covered ground locking upon his prey when he saw it: almost hard to discern from the bare brown of the dogwood trunk it dug near expect Arturo had seen it's muscles moving, had heard the furious raking of it's claws against the earth.

Arturo's breathing was steady, heavy as he chased after it, pushing himself further and faster as it tried to throw him off by weaving haphazardly through the trees, but it had been some time since he'd last eaten: perhaps a day or so and the gangster was not so easily dissuaded. The odds appeared to be in his favor Arturo thought as his teeth latched around the little beasts' neck and he gave a furious shake of his head, ignoring the groundhog's squeal of protest. It snapped beneath the force of his jaws and the thing fell limp betwixt the Fearghal monarch's jaws. Saliva dribbled unappealingly from the corner of his mouth at the anticipation of dining ...it wasn't much of a feast and it was only fit for a poor king — but that was what he was now, these days. A begger king, but by necessity, of circumstance forged by mother nature's own hand. It would not be forever but it was the truth for now.

He loped easily through the forest, panting around the groundhog clamped betwixt his jaws with the intention of taking it deeper into the forest, to it's heart where he intended to enjoy his meal and the sunset in conjunction to one another.