Ravensblood Forest and i could see for miles

There was a peculiar kind of peace to the dark roots and vast evergreens that stretched to the edges of the seaside. The murky undergrowth which lead to towering sequoias was an ideal location. Surrounded by the dense brush and thick roots, Kierkegaard prowled through his surroundings with a sort of ragged grace in his lengthy limbs. There was a slight swagger to his steps, favoring his front right paw due to a mishap that had taken place in his previous hunt. Had it not been for his sister, the ashen male would have found himself in more trouble than he dared admit. Kierkegaard’s gaze seemed to move from side to side, his gait slowing a bit. He drew his head upwards and breathed deep, noting his surroundings with a placid expression. There was a warren of rabbits in the nearby brush. His tongue lashed against his lips at their scent. Lowering his head to the earth, the large ashen male slunk forward, shoulders rolling in a predatory manner, until he could more closely analyze where his prey was located. Through the thick brush, three of the burrowing creatures hopped about sporadically on the moist earth, their noses buried in the ground. Kierkegaard’s lip drew over his teeth as he dropped his long from closer to the soil just moments before darting forward, jaws snapping to close around the small creature’s head. With a satisfying crunch, the kicking creature ceased all movement, and the ashen wolf dropped its body to the ground. Drawing his tongue across his blood-stained lips, he wondered only for a moment if he should return to his sister before eating his catch. It took only a heartbeat for him to decide against it, and he lowered his head to the ground, hoping to temper the pang he felt in his gut.