Iktome Plains Weary Traveler

Clock had made his way steadily north, stopping to kill anything small enough to be hunted solo. It was exhausting hunting by oneself, but he was on his own now ever since the death of his brother Onni. The two brothers had wandered together for many months after their release from a wolf rehabilitation program in the Rocky Mountains. Clock and his siblings had all been born in captivity in Finland and then shipped to North America to be rehabilitated and released into the wild. Now, at 2 years old, Clock was full grown and yet still quite juvenile looking. For one, his legs were longer than average, giving him a rather lanky appearance. For another, he was half starved, making his slight frame look even more pathetic. With a bit of muscle and steady diet of meat, Clock could look rather handsome. For now, though, he was a bit of a sorry sight.

He had travelled diligently north, although he did not know what he was in search of. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he needed to get away! from his brother's bloodied and lifeless body. Onni had been gored by an elk he and Clock had been trying to take down. The worst was that Onni had not died right away. Clock had stayed with him, wild eyed with fright at all the blood...

No! Clock set his dark eyes determinedly and flung up the walls of his mind with such force he swore he could feel the mental action reverberating in his head. No. He was alone and tired and hungry. It would do no good to add dwelling on painful emotions to all of that. With a sharp little shake of his head, he looked straight ahead at the great swath of plains ahead of him. Lets see... assess the situation... He tilted his head up, his black nose twitching as he inhaled the smells around him. He could smell the faint tang of the salty sea water ahead and knew he was reaching the end of his running. Sitting back on his haunches, he lifted his right forepaw and chewed momentarily at a blistered paw pad. He had traveled such a great distance in the past few weeks his paws were raw and sore. Now that the blister on his right foot had popped, it was very irritating to walk on. With a sigh, he let the paw fall heavily back to the ground and settled his gaze back on the sight of the plains before him. He knew he wasn't going to be able to keep this up. He could not survive forever wandering on his own, especially not at such a grueling pace. He would eventually need to settle somewhere, and it would be wiser to do it soon - while he was still young and could provide value to a pack. He knew there were wolves in the area; he had been smelling their markings for several miles. He had never really belonged to a pack before, but he supposed that when the time came he would instinctively know what to do. For now, he could feel the ache of hunger welling up within him and he knew he would need to eat soon. He continued into the plains, sniffing hopefully for the scent of rabbits.