Grouse Thicket Skimming

Pippin had been following a small herd of deer for a few weeks now—the pack’s latest hunt had been a bust, and the agouti wolf wasn’t willing to let an opportunity slide away from them again. The Grove wasn’t necessarily large in numbers, though, and so Pippin considered the need to find a deer among them that was more weakened.

They began to lead him further from his pack’s lands, and he felt his patience ebbing with the possibility of the potential hunt slipping from their grasp. The pups were older—but how far could they travel? He had no inclination or knowledge on the matter.

The sun was hot, causing his tail to give an irritated lash before he found the shade of the thicket. His nose to the ground, it occurred to him only moments later that another scent was nearby, and his molten eyes sought her out—falling upon the dark yearling with a blatant stare.