Swiftcurrent Creek our cup runneth over

Ordinarily, Razo was loathe to seek anyone out, but there was a part of him now that had some semblance of connection to Swiftcurrent Creek, along with a much larger part of him that was simply bored with the menial, day-to-day. In theory he could take some instances of larger prey on his own, being the deft and strapping lad he was, but in practice he was far more likely to get himself injured even if he did succeed, in which case he would be both useless to the pack and, reduced to a state of healing, plagued by boredom of a greater degree and wildly irate by his own doing. Best therefore to find someone else to drag along with him.

Just to sweeten the deal, he had an unfortunate muskrat tucked between his teeth as he loped languidly through the interior of the territory, searching for someone, anyone, really, he could rope into participating in a large-scale hunt. The day was indeed overcast and the breeze was cool even if the resting air was fairly warm and only getting warmer by the day. He slowed when the scent of another wolf wafted to his keen nose and paused altogether when he saw her. The very young, plush-furred female was seemingly unoccupied, which suited him fine.

He didn’t know her name or else couldn’t remember it if Serengeti had told him previously, but he did know she ranked as a leader, which made two ridiculously young leaders in one pack. He strode up to her with respectful body-language and his mouth full, then tossed the freshly dead muskrat to her feet, gesturing to it with his handsomely tapered muzzle. It’s only small-time shit, but it’s for you if you’ll agree to come with me, he offered as a predatory gleam worked its way into his eyes. Small and nothing she couldn’t catch on her own, but why lift a paw for just a scrap if she could have a subordinate bring it to her? I’ve been tracking something more substantial.