Emberwood of mice

Nah, we got this!

It was very rare that Kierkegaard could happen across another wolf and not be forced to listen to incessant drabble. This dark stranger was a breath of fresh air. With nothing more than his simple greeting, both wolves seemed to continue on their designated paths. The red forest seemed to fade into silence, if only for a heartbeat. As Kierkegaard prowled forward, keeping his nose to the earth, there was a startling noise from behind him. Whirling his head around, his hackles began to rise and he bared his fangs in defense at the sight of the dark stranger racing in his direction. The swarthy male seemed to stop somewhat awkwardly in his tracks, though. This was when Kierke noted the large animal that was scurrying away in hopes of escape. Dropping his lips back over his fangs, the ashen male watched the raccoon with a moment of curiosity as it darted around him, before he glanced back towards the green-eyed male behind him. With a short toss of his head, the ashen loner kicked off and took flight after the retreating coon. His gesture was an offer to hunt, and whether the swarthy male would accept it was of no concern to Kierkegaard.