Duck Lake I haven't always been the King

Cloudy amber eyes tracked the movement of the younger male, interested but unconcerned. He thought about getting up to greet the other, but he was tired, and the sun beat down on him like a physical weight. Instead, he merely beat his tail against the ground when the other caught his eye, and leaned back on an elbow to advertize his relaxed atittude toward strangers. A friendly boof punctuated the motion. What are you waiting for?

Hopefully, this young male was from a nearby pack, and could take the stubborn, dying buck off of Grayday's paws. At this point, he didn't even care if he got a meal out of it, but by the looks of his quarry, he might yet see the end. The buck was lowering himself to the ground, unwilling or unable to stand any longer. Again, Day thought about standing, but there was still a steely glint in the buck's eyes. Better not to risk it.

His gaze shifted back to the wolf - a yearling, by the looks of him.