Wild Berry Meadow the cunning and the predatory instinct of a hawk.

He didn't notice the wolf until he was right upon him. The opium-deprived wolf lurched upwards, twitching as he jolted at the chuff, snarling briefly. Passt auf! He hissed, acidic eyes flaring to life as he looked at the wolf who came so near to him. Dirt stained his paws, though it was hard to tell, what with his already muddy paws. He looked up at the Arctic wolf, squinting at his bulky frame. Am I zhat hard to miss?