Silvertip Mountain The Sights I Have Seen

Chaska's tummy rumbled at the word prey. Back where he went further south, the plague had not touched. Outside the Teekon Wilds he had gone. But also back there, food was not his priority. Only when he desperately needed it did he try hunting smaller prey. He dared not try his luck on larger prey. "My stomach seems to like the sound of that."

The gray wolf too hoped Mason was alright. He wanted to see all the old faces he knew here. "So these new wolves. They anything special?" he asked, trying to put on a smile. It hurt his face to do so, but the pain was thought past.

Before Steady could answer his question, Chaska went to drinking. The water soothed his throat, as well as making feel refreshed. He was drinking for so long he forgot to breath. Quickly he raised his head from the water, breathing again. "Thank you."