Duskfire Glacier greed

vague still about outcomes!

Sunday Morning continued to skirt the Rise. In her life, she and her natal pack followed prey where they moved. It was what caused Sunday Morning to move from the Moraine to the Glacier this day. She followed the wind, diligent in her tracking. She did not know what fare the Rise wolves preferred, but she would mark them all, and lead the hunters to the places she discovered that were rich with beasts to chase.

It was an errant wind that brought the scent of mule deer to her when she lingered on the fringes of the Moraine. It was these creatures that brought Sunday here. Their eyes were not upon her, but another. This one in the far distance forged ahead. Perhaps he knew something she did not.

And so she followed after him, only pausing to squat and leave a message for her mate of where she was, and where she would return. But for now, she would pursue the other wolf to see what he might be heading toward.

The stranger might easily have recognized he was being pursued. Sunday Morning was indiscreet, only silent when she thought she caught wind of an animal he might have determined to take down or inspect instead. None of these wayward animals caught his interest, it seemed. The sun continued its upward climb, and Sunday continued after him all the while until he stopped.

Sunday stopped, too, keeping her distance. She looked around them, noting the woods. She was not moved by them, but was glad for the shade. The wind sang through the trees, different than how it howled against the mountains. It was not unpleasant. But there was no food to be found here, to her dismay. Still, she was not put off by it. Sunday Morning took some odd steps forward before she whuffed in greeting, tail swaying behind her. If he looked to her then, he would see that she sampled the air before her attention went back to him, a curious light in her eye. Had he not come here to hunt?  He sat down.

Ah, perhaps he had already hunted, and had come here to rest.