Moonspear the notes of a strained refrain

The wind shifted against him for a moment, crisp and almost invigorating. Inviting, in a sense, to a wolf who had long and longed to wander but was otherwise bound by obligation. Tracking the elk was a means of killing two birds with one stone; he could fulfill the desire to wander a bit and also do something that would bolster their chances of survival with the winter to come.

He didn’t have to wait too long for Atlas to join him. The sight of his raven-haired son pulled an easy smile to his face as he joined him; Dirge often did not get to spend time with his eldest children one-on-one those days, and he was grateful that they still wanted to be in his company. All of them were punctual in their own way too, a good sign that they were willing to join him as much as they were to continue to aid the pack.

“Just a bit further south into the valley,” he told Atlas, “I’ve been tracking a herd of elk that’s about to go crossing through and I figured it best we get a headcount and size them up from a distance.” It went without saying that he thought perhaps Atlas would have liked the task too, knowing that he had hunted with Osiris and Hydra before. And Altair had not hushed entirely about how helpful his older brother had been too—no doubt he would enjoy whatever story Atlas could make out of this.