Ravensblood Forest from silence rose a symphony

When the wolves had begun singing, though perhaps to them the timbre notes brought forth a sombre tinge to the cold misty air, Akai could not see it as anything but a warning.

The small male had his teeth about the throat of an old, wiry nanny. The goat's body was twisted with lashes and its legs punctured through and through; the flashy male was quick on the draw, a lone hunter who had used his teeth to gouge its eyes before bringing it down without a mess of fanfare. It had stopped struggling long ago, and now, sitting in silent accord with a few glossy-feathered ravens, all the creatures of the hollow stood still and rose nose and beak to the sky. A howl rolling like fog to settle betwixt the spaces of trees, a siren-song that made the snowy-whites of his fur rise with the unseen threat. He had to hurry. Knife-like was his jaw against the sinew-y creatures belly, pulling out a portion of its innards in a whip of globulous blood to chuck to the four birds awaiting, staining his muzzle a new, fresh coat red. Without a word, the birds picking up their spoils and fleeing to the trees in a mess of wing-flap sounds.

He could not run.

Belly aching in hunger from the drops of blood on his tongue, Akai knew that if he ran away and left anything now it could spell trouble for he and his small companion-- no, if the white wolf had to ward away visitors… so be it. No doubt the scent of blood would be in their nostrils soon and they would come with drooling maws to take what is his, but with golden eyes trained upon the low-laying brush Akai knew that he would need all the resolve he had to make sure that did not happen.
 
Statue-esque he waited, a score of ravens above him in a crippled, leafless tree.