The Bracken Woods Night of the Red Moon

There was no doubt about it, this dark haired wolf was wise and could think, best to have an acquaintance that could think for himself than to have one unable to lick his chops without biting his tongue. No, this one was as keen as Redmoon, if not the sharper. Of the same line of thought, there was one thing left to do as they both knew time was of the essence - hunt. While every instinct within the red furred lupine screamed not to do so, Redmoon delivered his new ‘friend’ a moment of trust - he turned his back once the alliance had been formed and he gave flight to his feet. He leapt nimbly back up to his rotten perch and lifted his nose to the wind, twitching and waiting. 

Copper was still in the air and he could taste it well, the tang was strong though fading, clue that whatever their prey be it was moving away which in turn meant it was still on its feet. ‘Good,’ Redmoon mused, ‘to track fallen prey is no honorable kill. Perhaps we’ll have good sport after all. Though there is but one conclusion here.’ He glanced back to his dark furred companion, ‘We shall eat well tonight.’ A slight breeze twisted through the leaves and Redmoon caught the scent of the waning trail. His muscles flexed, his pose tensed, ears flattened and finally he gave a vicious snarl - flashing his fangs with intensity, eager for the hunt. 

Springing from the log he gave himself a good headstart only to land and sling debris in his wake. It was time to make the distance between their pray short. The shrubbery here held claws and they scrapped Redmoon’s shoulders as he passed through them. Suddenly made aware of the danger within the greens he made double sure that to avoid such cuts would be wise for there was no sense in letting the flora get the best of him. Trees blurred by in a wave as his lope carried him through an easy gallop. This was not a full out run, he needed his concentration for the scent trail and falling in a hole or a stumble would ruin his balance and show his new companion that he may as well be a clumsy youth. A sign of weakness that Redmoon refused to allow. 

He raced ever onwards and took in the smells of the forest. The moist departure of natural integrity giving way to the foul decay of the undergrowth. It smelled of fir and pine, though it gave off a tint of density that recalled in Redmoon’s mind as a thicket ahead. His nose caught the edge of a fresh water creek in the far distance though without proper scouting he’d not find it this night. Birds and other mediocre prey were bedding down for the storm and the night. They were likely passing a plethora of small game though they would have no fortune in digging them out of their dens, the rain would not be kind once it caught them out in the open regardless if they were beneath the canopy of the conifer trees or not. 

Over a log he leapt, graceful and steady on his feet as he landed to continue and dodge the setting of several stumps. Vines were becoming thick here and so Redmoon took a gently curve to the northeast to avoid them. They traveled up a lazy hillside and at this point the darkness of night had fully crept in and laid a cooling blanket over the earth. A brief split in the clouds then shed the light of the red moon down upon them and it caught his peripheral. Now at a moment of rest he opened his maw to breathe a slight pant as he took a short glance into the bold moon above. 

The nature of a full moon made prey all the more difficult to catch though the blood moon would add a measure of fight to their instinct. This prey would not be an easy one to take down though he was certain that they’d seek it out soon. 

With the wind again on him, he took in a bout of sniffing until he caught the prime scent of the blood, still flowing from their prey. Eyes narrowed, he was off again and slinking down the hillside whilst angling back towards the northwest. As he approached the thicket and the vines grew in severity, he caught the scent within. He needn’t state the profanely obvious that they were beginning to close in on their mutual target, as he fell still and began taking slow and deliberate steps into the gloom.