Swiftcurrent Creek They're smirking at fresh blood

The call was answered with the presence of multiple creek wolves that day, and among the slowly gathering group emerged the silver streak of Soltero, sliding in his solemn quietude up beside the troupe and passing a nod of greeting to each one; the former beta's gaze lingered for a moment more on Kavik, pondering the right moment to converse with him, but decided that for now, the hunt was of greater importance. Breaths of frigid air licked down his spine, but the Valento focused his mind on the task ahead - while he wanted to inquire about what his position among the pack was now (would he be promoted back into his old position, or were his services not required any more?), he understood that now of all moments was not the correct moment to ask. Another time, perhaps when the hunt was done, or when he understood his own goals better.

Currently unaware of Talos' presence further along the creek's edge, Tero's ears flicked in anticipation, nose twitching, idly scrounging for details of the prey's numbers and their location in relation to the hunting party. What he did not expect, however, was the sound of trampling hooves, growing ever-nearer. They'd been spooked, but by what? Or, rather, who?

Then he glimpsed the charcoal girl. His blackened lips might've twitched into a half smile, if not for the miniscule stream of red trickling down her forehead, the startled glaze of her eyes; right, that must be the reason for the herd's sudden scattering. With a burst of adrenalin came the searching of his own vivid gaze, quickly observing the situation and watching for the movements of the others - while he was sufficient enough at hunting smaller prey, larger creatures such as the deer were almost foreign to Soltero, who'd never been given the opportunity (too busy travelling, feasting on rabbits and squirrels he'd caught with his mother).