Broken Antler Fen if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms

he's near the borders so it doesn't necessarily have to be a baf wolf who joins this! :-)

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It was only recently that Mato had begun going out on solo hunts: though he had no interest in the hunter trade he preferred to catch his own food. Except when they bring him venison or something much too big for him to take down on his own. The rabbit had almost eluded him — only because Mato had gotten tangled in tall, snow covered ferns as he plowed through them as he gave chase — but luck appeared (for the time being) to be on his side. The rabbit had fallen without much trouble from that point. Mate eats it slowly, appreciating his meal in the way that a gourmet cook appreciated his masterpiece dish and when he polishes off the meat until his belly is full — though he knows it won’t stay that way for long (growing boys need to eat!) — he is content and his hunger is sated as he draws his tongue against his jowls, attempting to clean them of dribbles of salvia, blood and flesh. Slow eater or not he is not exactly a neat eater. He nudges the carcass a bit away from him, smearing a bit of blood across the bridge of his muzzle and despite that he draws his tongue across his nose he knows he cannot clean the smudge from his muzzle with his tongue but he does not worry about it.

With a small grunt he pushes himself to his paws, stretching in the warmth of the morning sun before he gave his coat a hearty shake and padded closer to the borders. He knew better than to cross them and though he wasn’t overly interested in being a guardian he was curious and as most pups are at his age: adventurous. Besides…if he didn’t go on adventures how was he supposed to think of epic stories to tell later? The best tales came from experience, after all! Mato tells himself as he pads along them, though there is a safe distance between the urine markings and him.

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