Bramblepoint berrypicker

The berries were encased in a layer of frost which made chewing them a bit more of a workout on the dark male’s jaw. He was glad of that, though – it prevented him from gorging too heavily on the small fruits. As sweet and tempting as they were the lone male knew that if he filled himself up on berries he might be less inclined to hunt for a proper meal, one that his body could convert into more effective energy, later.

It was a balancing act, one of many in Nisus’s current way of living.

As he drew in a breath it took some observation to disentangle the tang of berries from the scent of another wolf. Nisus’s head was halfway obscured by the thick leaves of a berry bush when the stranger let loose a woof. As the loner withdrew his muzzle from the bush’s clutches a fine dusting of snow was dislodged.

He turned, weak amber eyes focusing on the charcoal-mantled figure – focusing more on her startling green eyes than anything else. That lasted only a moment before the chocolatey male dropped his gaze, following specks of snow down to the forest floor. His voice emerged soft and rough, as if it hadn’t been used in some time.

“Hullo there. Not intruding, I hope?”