King Elk Forest lay down your head

Attempts made earlier in the day to feed himself had left Duskhall nothing but exhausted, aggravated, and hungrier than when he'd begun. He was always hungry— the hallmark of a swelling two year-old on the cusp of entering his prime— but it ventured to a point where the vicious rumble in his gut became too cumbersome to endure while awake. So he slept in a shallow dig until it was dark; and though the rumble was still there when he woke, he was no longer winded from his failed hunts that afternoon.

Snuffling about, scouring for a trail of something fresh, the hound paused only to observe a moonwashed figure through the trees. After discerning that she was another wolf, and therefore inedible, the wraith floated on, trailing into the woods further for some sort of lingering quarry.