Blackfeather Woods if i'm betting against you

Death was upon them all, and though the patchwork hound was not too remarkable at catching signs, he knew that there was something dangerous in the air. The wolves of the wild wood were preparing themselves for a war and he had been asked to assist. The devil did not feel as though he owed his allegiance to the pack or the leadership within it, but he was provided an opportunity to feast. The brute's appetite had not be sated in some time, and he had started to grow restless in his period of waiting. His desirous acts would certainly affirm Ithrik's actual fealty was pledged to the taste of corpuscles and supple hide.

Following the unknown male wolf in a quiet manner, Ithrik noted the antsy movements in his young body and the sharp glint of his eye. The devil was almost intrigued to see if he would be able to overtake one of his own pack members and drive them into the earth. He was more of a hunter, though, and so he remained far enough back that he could watch and listen, but not be found. The cover of the trees could shroud him well enough. Each step brought him closer to the hocks of the stranger, until Aries had stopped and caused Ithrik to pause as well in his pursuit.

It seemed that there were other bodies in the wild wood. A sense of delight bubbled up from within the vile hound's gut. He trained his tangerine gaze on the male up front and drew his tongue along his lips with a deep hunger. Slinking forward, he placed a few feet of distance between himself and the other wolf from Blackfeather before he stepped from the brush and made himself known to the enemy in their land. His inky lips were curled in a jubilant expression and rotten teeth peeked from below. Already, his hackles were bristled and raised along his back. Ithrik swayed in place before darting back into the brush to wait for their pursuit.