The Heartwood from which of this oak

omg, my bf's laptop is so much better than mine. >__>;
and now it's bedtime, must go cuddle. work tomorrow is dumb.

The sunlight was warm upon his back while he trotted gingerly across the lush terrain. He was headed toward a woodland to seek refuge beneath the cooling umbrella of a green-leaf canopy. Until recently, the lone male had been unaware of other wolves residing in the area. Now that he knew of the small pack established on a northern plateau, Teklar traveled southwest to avoid competing with the locals for food.

Hunger plagued him, chewed at him from the inside. It devoured his every sense. The beautiful chorus of the birds above screamed in his ears. The sight of the squirrels drove him mad. The fading scent of deer was like a haunting memory. Teklar reminisced in the memories of hunting with his family and all the lessons Mother and Father had taught him that could never be forgotten. If only they could be here now to guide him, for even as a mature adult the lone-wolf felt like a whelp in his attempts to feed himself.

As he traveled, now walking casually to savor the minimal relief from the afternoon heat, amber eyes caught glimpse of a pale creature moving through the trees. He took immediate action, eyes and ears focusing as his head lowered to minimize his presence. The large male crept forward carefully, preparing to hunt his next meal... no matter the species.