Sheepeater Cliff Wanderer

His plodding pace soon brought him into the vicinity of another wolf, evidenced by the sharp scent of his species on the breeze accompanied by that of newly spilled blood. The brute's nostrils quivered, his body lurching suddenly into a trot that would bring him shortly upon the scene of Sky feasting on a rabbit.

She had finished her meal, but he could see there were still scraps of meat clinging to the bones. Her snout still held hints and flecks of blood, which made her his contender. The unpredictable lone wolf lifted his head challengingly, with lips peeling back over his teeth and hackles lifting all along his spine as he stepped ominously toward her.

It was the way of the lone wolf, and all hunting wolves in general, to exploit any weakness. To him, she was nothing but a rival who, if he could intimidate her, would give up the scant remainder of her kill to sate the hunger in his belly. He was wholly selfish and wholly invested in himself, and he would take what he wanted most.