Whitefish River I Think It's Time

"Yes. Hunting," he said with a smile, finding a sense of humor in the fact that his young child wasn't fully aware of the concept. "Grown-up wolves go hunting for food. We have to find it, and capture it before we can eat it," he explained. Perhaps an example would be the best way to explain. "You know how you wrestle with Shiloh? Chase her around and pounce on her. In a way, you're play-hunting her. Only your target today won't be your sister." He gently nudged Ravaryn on the side and walked over to the series of holes he was scouted out earlier.

He lowered himself to the ground upon catching a glimpse of a prairie mouse. "You see that small creature over by that rock?" he whispered. "That's a mouse," he remarked and took a few slow steps towards it. As the mouse turned its back and began grooming its ears Howl made his move. Quickly getting up and sprinting towards the mouse. He would have sank his teeth into it, but wanted it to be of multiple uses. With his paw he smacked the mouse as it tired to race away disorientating it and giving him time to run over and place a paw on the critter. "I've just hunted a mouse. You see?" he asked Ravaryn, wondering what he next move would be.