King Elk Forest they paint the world full of shadows

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The King Elk's chased off the young bulls and the cows that had very briefly made up his harem. Only one cow remains now and her estrus cycle has long since waned — only time would tell if Spring would herald a child of the mighty, ethereal ungulate. Once the others were outside his immediate circle of protection generously bestowed upon him by the wolves that has claimed his forest the elk were no longer his concern and free for the wolves to hunt them if they so wished. He was a rarity, a solitary species and if the cow remained then he would see her protected from the wolves regardless of if it means spilling blood or not. It's not his place to predict or decide whether she will stay or venture off with a passing herd. This morning, he works on building up his bulk for the winter months, grazing on grass and eating leaves with the female close to his side. He knows that the pack is building up their food stores for the winter months as well and so long as they give him and his a wide berth their mutual agreement can continue undisturbed. Thus far, they have left him alone and given him no reason to not trust them — though this does not mean that he does trust them because, frankly, he doesn't. He rips a mouthful of leaves from a branch and lets out a low snort as he munches noisily upon them, ears flickering and eyes vigilant for the pack that he knows haunts his forest.

post written by Mato.