The Bracken Woods Night of the Red Moon

Anubis watched, luminescent suns lightly following the figure he had not had the oppertunity to see within a closer light becoming clearer as he neared. The company cleared the distance between them with ease, deep strokes of limb cooperation illustrating the capabilities this one held. With appreciative eyes, the Prince of Sekket visually took in the pallet of scarlets that he could decipher in the loom of the night, crimsons at play with hints of garnets and coal at play within the younger wolf's fur.

They sized eachother up, the two year making a distinct attempt at being a height superior, though without fail Anubis's ears denied the pleasure. Slim face front with the stalks of his auds pointed upon the Red Wolf, respectfully the Egytian sent his nares forward a bit, a smidge of lean towards the fellow, obtaining any other information the first whiff had not allowed. Mateless, and alone, this one. Male, and within adequate health. Light swishes of a tail against relaxed hocks conveyed his assessment was of no harm or vile show.

Fully the voice was branded to the wolf before him, as Anubis memorized such sound. Unique to this one, and this one, alone. Responding prompt in fashion, the Sekket murmured back with his lightly accented voice, "Indeed the wind holds blood, yet soon it will be ruined with Wet. We must beat the Sky to the spill."

Anubis had indeed considered taking to snagging small prey, yet they seemed to be nowhere, as they inhabited lower portions of their dug in homes to escape the coming storm. So his mind had seemingly been made up for him.

"The small prey have submerged until the storm has rested. Larger prey fear less; they will meet our fangs, sooner if we are together."

The onyx tri-year personally felt better on hunting with someone rather than solo, as it increased chance of hitting larger game. However, this was the drive of all wolves, was it not?